


The Legend of Rose Hexfury - At Hope's End

by infinitarisus



Series: The Legend of Rose Hexfury [4]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Beating, Betrayal, Blindness, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Chaptered, Depression, Execution, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Female Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Half-Siblings, Illnesses, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, Innuendo, Love/Hate, Medicine, Mythology References, Nightmares, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, POV Original Female Character, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Prophecy, Prophetic Dreams, Reunions, Series, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicide Attempt, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 16:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 46,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14288862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitarisus/pseuds/infinitarisus
Summary: Part 4 of the story of Rose Hexfury, the half-sister of Jack Sparrow, pupil of Tia Dalma, and daughter of Captain Teague. This is her untold story; all the times you never saw her, all the interactions she had with the characters you remember, and the impact you never knew she made.With the loss of both her childhood love and her brother, Rose feels utterly hopeless. She begrudgingly joins the Barbossa's rescue mission, though she doesn't believe anything will come of it. After falling behind in their mission to Singapore, Rose is brought to Port Royal under Lord Beckett's execution orders, where she finds a familiar face who she never would have imagined connecting with. This encounter forces her to find her way on her own, reuniting with her absent father, Captain Teague, and ultimately guides her to the final War on Piracy at Shipwreck Island. Through her hardships, she will pave her own destiny and finally embrace the full scope of her power.





	1. After the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Well, if you've made it this far, I congratulate you! Personally, this is my favorite section of my series, covering "At World's End," and I can't wait for you to get into it. As ever, please feel free to leave comments and feedback!
> 
> Drink up, me hearties!

The room was aflutter with noise. Everyone had started talking at once. "How?" "I saw you dead." "Murderous wretch!" "When did this happen?"

Barbosa merely kept his smug grin on his face as he descended the stairs. Rose followed, her neck still tight with tears she could not shed. Not yet. She had already showed the majority of these people her weakness. Now it was time they see the capabilities of her wrath.

Will was the first voice to break from the constant utterance of confusion. "I killed you," he announced. "My blood and Jack's bullet killed you."

The normally verbose and riotous Barbossa stayed entirely still, staring directly at Will, which somehow made him angrier.

"I brought 'im back," Tia piped up, feeling the tension in the room. "Me an' Rose."

Of course. She _had_ to rope Rose in with her scheme. Rose didn't even have the care in her heart to fight back even though she felt all of their eyes on her. She could hear their unspoken questions. _Why Rose, after all he did to Jack?_

Will _did_ approach her and gently muttered, "So that's why you didn't come back with us. He's the reason."

Rose didn't even look at him. She instead kept focused dead ahead at a smudge on the farthest wall. Blankly, she said to Tia, "Tell them _why_."

The heat of their eyes left her and swept to Tia. "Barbossa could not be left ta die," she explained. "He is one of de pirad lords, and his piece of eight was not passed to an heir."

"Pirate lords?" Elizabeth asked. "What is a pirate lord?"

That was when Rose left. She didn't actually move anywhere. She stayed exactly where she was, staring at the dark spot on Tia's wall. It was a piece of the grain in the wood. With her eyes she traced its shape. _Curve._ They were probably at this point explaining about the onset of the pirate code, written and maintained by Captains Morgan and Bartholomew. _Jagged edge._ Barbossa had probably drawn Tia's chair and explained the nine pieces of eight and the nine pirate lords that governed nine bodies of water around the world. _Point._ Someone had probably asked about the logistics of Barbossa's revival, and Tia had responded with a less than helpful response. _Seamless turn._ The plan was about to be announced, just as Barbossa had so gruffly barked at Rose, "Why was I saved, ya ask? Think, Miss Teague! Tia wasn't just on a generous streak, no! I am the Pirate Lord of the Black Sea. Jack’s the Pirate Lord of the Caribbean!" _Bulbous contour._ A journey at world's end to find him. The plan to travel into the Locker. Jones had Jack's body and soul, while Barbossa died on land, his body retrievable and his soul not held captive by Jones. _Sharp angle._ The pirate lord Sao Feng has the charts to the locker in his possession. Singapore. _Corner_. _Everyone I love dies._ Mother. Ben. Jack. _Rough edge._ It wasn’t Jones. It wasn’t the Kraken. It's _you._ You did this. _Splintered border_. Get away from them before you hurt someone else. _Point._ You live a cursed existence. _Rough._ "Rose?" She hears Mama say. _Darkness._ "Rose," Ben whispers. _Emptiness._ "Rose!" Jack yells.

"Rose!" Tia cried, stirring her from her trance.

Rose glanced in their direction. The heat of their eyes was on her again. All of them were circled around Tia's table where Barbossa sat, pointing to a map. "Ye best be listening to the plan, as this involves you."

Rose gave a half-hearted nod and slowly approached the rest.

Barbossa continued, "Now, once we arrive in Singapore, Gibbs will lead a party through the sewers. Meanwhile, Rose and Master Turner will keep together in a boat that will leave first, Master Gibbs."

"Aye... _Captain_ ," Gibbs replied with just the slightest sense of hesitancy. It was at this reaction that Rose stopped to examine how the crew seemed to be handling this sudden reappearance and call to action. They looked responsive, but still shocked.

"Why Will and Rose?" Elizabeth quietly asked from somewhere in the rear of the room.

Rose found herself in agreement with her. "Yes, why just us?"

"If I know Sao Feng at all, I know his charts are hidden somewhere sacred, most likely a temple," Barbossa explained. "We will be needing a thief," he said, motioning to Will, who merely nodded in response, "And a decoy." He pointed to Rose. 

She narrowed her eyes. "Decoy?"

He looked as though he was about to lose his patience as he rapped his blackened nails on Tia's table. "We will use our lovely ladies as decoys."

"See, there we are with that word again," Rose snapped. She felt anger boiling in her core again. " _Decoy._ You make it sound as though you want to brush us under the rug and let the men do the work. And beg your pardon, but I never agreed to undertake this mission!”

He was standing before she was finished, towering over her. "And tell me, Miss Teague, what choice do ya have?"

The words shook her. Her mind started racing. Her initial answer to his question was defensive, but as no convincing answer as to where she would go from there surfaced, a sudden hollow feeling of loneliness washed over her.

"And I'll appreciate your silent cooperation, _mademoiselle,_ " he mocked with smug pleasure.

She took pleasure in replying to him with the same smugness. " I can stay here in the bayou."

"Then you'll be stayin' here on yer own," he growled, collapsing back into the chair.

Her eyes flew to Tia, who was avoiding eye contact. "Ah yes, so you are to be a decoy as well?" she spat.

"All three of you are," Barbossa answered for her. "You are the first part. No offense to you, Miss Swann," he said to Elizabeth, "But you are too...proper to make a convincing woman of the night."

"WOMAN OF THE NIGHT?" Rose yelled. "And you are suggesting that I _do_?"

"We've planted her once before as a lady for sale, Capt'n," Marty added. Rose shot a look at him and he dared not add any more details.

Barbossa was now addressing Will as he looked at Rose. "Boot black in the hair, powder to lighten the skin, that eye kohl her brother was so fond of, and some local attire. She'll blend in fine."

Rose set her jaw and just glared at Barbossa until he finally acknowledged her. "Let's not pout, Rose. If ya haven't noticed, we're severely outnumbered."

"That isn't it," she snapped. "You are neglecting two hitches in your expert plan. First, what happens if I have a paying customer? Second, how can I possibly be a woman of the night and a successful decoy if I am blind to the night?"

She expected a stunned silence, but Barbossa was quick on his feet. "There are no hitches," he smirked. "Will, you will ensure she be hooded and provided with a fan to cover her face." Will silently nodded in understanding. He continued, "Yer hindrance should not be noticeable unless you make it so."

Rose frowned. "And if my customer is insistent?"

"You'll have a weapon, Rose," responded Will firmly, but gently. It was clear he wanted this night to end more than anyone in the room just from his eyes alone.

"Mister Turner's right," said Barbossa. "You're a big girl Rose. Act it. Now as for your other concern, you will not need your eyes the night Will takes the charts. Stay stationed," he said, pointing to the coastline along eastern Singapore, "Right here by the docks. When the rest of us arrive, we will wait for your word that Will has the charts and is waiting in hiding for our party to board a ship. Meanwhile, Miss Swann, you will take a boat along this river. Make no efforts to blend in. The rest of us will wait on the opposite bank, which is mere minutes from Sao Feng's most popular haunt.You're appearance should attract his men, which will gain us access to speak with him and ask for a ship and a crew..."

That was when Rose stopped listening again. She recalled helping to move chairs and create makeshift beds for the crew. She only barely remembered slight interactions as she moved. Tia’s guilty expression, Barbossa’s annoyance, Marty saying hopefully, “We’re gonna get ‘im back, Rose! Don’t you worry,” Will’s uncharacteristic coldness… and a chorus of the words that rang in her ears— _We depart at dawn._

Elizabeth was to take Angelica’s old bed in the same room where Rose slept, and while she usually wouldn’t mind this, she wanted nothing more than to be alone this night. She walked back up the stairs as though in a dream. As she began to extinguish the candles one by one in her room, she heard Elizabeth speak to her alone for the first time. In a hoarse voice, she whispered, “I’m so sorry.” Rose looked over and saw that a steady stream of tears were running down her face, and this struck her as odd. Even Rose hadn’t cried in nearly two hours since first discovering Jack’s fate. She was numb, more than anything else. Rose nodded, then extinguished the last flame. She made her way by touch back to her hammock and settled down, feeling her own stream of tears begin once more. The last thing she remembered was the sound of Elizabeth quietly sobbing a few meters away. Rose found herself evermore confused as to this passionate response to her brother’s death, but she soon fell back into her own disturbed mind. This was not her life to live. It had never been her life to live. She was not even a participant in her own story. She was a pawn to be moved, a tool to fix a problem, a curse to damn the innocent.


	2. Back to the Wreck

Rose was still in disbelief as she boarded the longboat and sailed out of the bayou. Gibbs and Marty sat the front, directing Pintel and Ragetti through the swamp, but Rose knew that they alone could not man the boat once out to the sea once more. She had made this trip to Shipwreck Island once before with Angelica upon leaving the bayou not long ago, so she knew what lay ahead for them. Now with three more passengers than she arrived with and a full crate of provisions, the boat was low to the water and slow moving, and could not possibly push back against the open ocean. As the daylight began to break through the thick foliage and Rose regained her eyesight, she looked at the floor of the boat and found two more oars. Will saw her see them and anticipated her actions, grabbing the other oar. Together they shifted so that they sat in front of Pintel and Ragetti and began to row in sync with them. Cotton meanwhile manned the rudder, where Barbossa, Tia Dalma, and Elizabeth sat.

Rose’s eyes travelled over them all. Tia Dalma must not have been out of the bayou in years, for she had to shield her eyes from the sunlight as it hit them. Now on the sea, she reached her hand out of the boat, letting her fingertips brush against the blue ocean and breathing a sigh of relief. Rose seethed at her bliss; How dare she seem so carefree despite the pain that had just occurred. Elizabeth was still bereft, staring vacantly ahead. Upon regarding her, it finally occurred to Rose that this was _Elizabeth,_ the long sought after love that Will had spoken so fondly of. She turned to look at him, who was rowing in stride with her, but from his expression, one would never know that he or Elizabeth had even _met_ before, let alone were affianced. Something serious had clearly transpired between them both, but Rose was wise enough to keep her questions to herself for the time being.

Finally, Barbossa. His face was somber and unflinching as Jack the monkey chattered away on his shoulder, struggling for balance as the boat cut through the waves. He took a deep breath of the sea air and he seemed to sit up straighter, further invigorated by the adventure that awaited them.

This must have been why after asserting his leadership through his detailed plans the night before, he then began to show his true colors. He looked ahead and eyed up will, giving a slight smirk. “Besides ya killin’ me, Master Turner,” he growled, “I don’t believe we’ve properly met.”

Will said nothing, glaring at him as his continued to row.

Barbossa kept it up, however. “Was it worth it in the end, boy? For here I am, alive and breathing.”

“…which I didn’t know was possible,” Will said under his breath, clearly directed at Rose.

Rose deflected his rage right back at Tia Dalma, however, quipping, “Neither did I.” Tia pretended not to hear her.

Barbossa was only energized by Will’s fury, and continued to feed off of it. “Is that spite I hear laced in yer voice, boy?”

Will snapped at this. “Aye,” he spat.

“‘Aye,” what?”

“Aye, it _was_ worth killing you, despite not for good. Do you know why?” Barbossa only raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Will continued, “Because you too killed a man, but not for good. My father lives a hellish existence on the _Flying Dutchman_ because of _you._ ”

Rose looked over at him as he said this. So Will must have been aboard Jones’s ship, then.

“Is he?” Barbossa said with a wry grin. “And to think; I _could_ have killed you all along before reachin’ that blasted island after all.”

The boat fell quiet again, and the only sounds were of the smacking of the oars against the sea. After a time, though, Barbossa then turned to Elizabeth. “And _you_ certainly be lookin’ different, Miss _Turner,_ ” he said pointedly. Ah yes. Rose had nearly forgotten that to protect her identity, Elizabeth had taken Will’s last name upon being captured by the _Pearl_ from Port Royal. It wasn’t until discovering that Elizabeth’s blood did not break the curse as she was not a Turner that she was able to make her escape.

Elizabeth was not in the mood to fight, and merely averted her eyes down to the floor of the boat. Barbossa moved on from antagonizing her, and looked over the people before him. “A sorry lot if I’ve ever seen one,” he remarked, “A mute, a dwarf, Jack’s loyal pup, my two former imbeciles, a Turner, a false Turner, an obeah woman, and a more irksome version of Sparrow. I s’pose you’ll have to do.”

Rose sneered. “We _will_ have to do, as we’re all you have!” All eyes in the boat turned to her. “Although I don’t see how there is any chance of us being successful. What—the ten of us are going to shanghai a ship singlehandedly strong enough to sail below the southern continent, one of the most treacherous places on earth, and on to Singapore to seek out some magical map that will lead us to Davy Jones’s Locker?” She looked around at everyone aboard, ceasing her rowing. “You _do_ hear how absurd this all sounds, don’t you?” No one said anything, perhaps silently agreeing with her. Their odds were not good, but still they were risking their own lives for a cause Rose thought impossible to recover. “My brother is dead,” she said, her lip quivering. “Jones killed him. I don’t care what strength Will has, what commands Barbossa has, or what…prophecies _she_ keeps,” she said, gesturing to Tia, “We cannot change that much ourselves. He’s gone.” Then, quieter, she mumbled, “Like so much else. Gone.”

Barbossa broke the silence that followed by clapping his hands slowly together, as though sarcastically applauding a performance. He then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared with his yellowed eyes at her. “Whereas many of ye be unfamiliar to me, _this_ one,” he said, pointing a blackened fingernail toward her, “I know all too well. Let me be perfectly clear,” he announced to the boat, which had at that time stopped its motion forward once all four rowers had ceased their synchronous movement. “I am not Jack Sparrow. And while most anyone with a thinking brain would think that ta be a good thing, there are those aboard who would cross me.” He stared directly at Rose as he said this. “And to those people, I would recommend that they turn back now.”

Would that it were that simple. Rose would leap off the side of the boat and swim for shore that moment, but where would she go? She was furious at her night blindness, the only thing keeping her from being entirely independent from anyone else. With no one to turn to, she was stuck here, on whatever voyage was in store. So she only sat straighter, her jaw set in defiance.

“No takers?” Barbossa jeered. “Fine. Then we row on. With me as your captain, understood?”

“Aye, Captain,” his nine crewman said listlessly in reply.

* * *

_“The King and his men stole the Queen from her bed…”_

Tia Dalma had been singing the same song over and over again into the palm of her right hand for the past half hour.

_“And bound her in her bones…”_

“D’ya reckon ye can stop ‘er?” Pintel whispered to Rose by leaning forward as they continued rowing. “She’s been goin’ on like that for ages!”

Rose pursed her lips. “Doubt it,” she replied in monotone. “Learn to let her be. She’s full of all sorts of secrets that have no explanation whatsoever.”

Tia looked up at Rose and stared at her as she sang, “ _The seas be ours and by the powers…”_

 _“_ Land ho, Cap’n!” Gibbs cried out.

The rowers stopped briefly to turn around and see the looming Shipwreck Island stand majestically in the distance.

Tia grinned through her blackened teeth. _“Where we will, we’ll roam._ ”

“Is that Shipwreck?” Elizabeth asked.

“Aye,” replied Barbossa.

“…any particular reason why?” she tentatively asked. A valid question, seeing as the crew had just fled a shipwreck of their own not but a day previous.

“Reefs. And there’s a pretty treacherous cove on the inside.”

“Aye,” concurred Gibbs from the front bow of the boat. “Tis a pirate island, and has been for the better part of a century. Legend tells that the wrecks got to be so bad, incoming ships were blocked from gettin’ anywhere near the docks. So, the townsfolk dug up the wreckage and tossed it aside in the middle of the cove this island protects. That’s where Shipwreck Cove sits.”

 _“Yo Ho, haul together…”_ Tia croaked.

“Shipwreck Cove?” Elizabeth asked quizzically. “The uncharted pirate fortress? I only heard of it in storybooks.”

Barbossa and Tia Dalma shared a glance. “Nay,” he carefully replied. “Much more than stories. True it be that the island remains uncharted, and the Cove remains a meeting place for the Brethren Court.”

“But,” asked Elizabeth, “The Brethren Court only convenes for important matters. What is the Cove used for when the Court is not in session?”

_“Hoist the colours high…”_

“Ask Rose. Her father be the Keeper of the Pirate Code there,” Barbossa quipped.

Will and Elizabeth spun to face Rose expectantly. Her face flushed with anger. “You know as well as I, _Captain,_ that I know not my father’s doings. As far as I’ve heard, the Cove remains empty until the Court is convened.”

_“Heave Ho, thieves and beggars…”_

“And how do nine Pirate Lords from all over the world know to convene at once?” Will asked.

Barbossa glanced over his shoulder at Tia Dalma. She grinned, singing for the last time, “ _Never say we die.”_ She then opened her hand to reveal two silver pieces of eight. She handed one to Barbossa wordlessly and kept the other one.

“We be ready,” she said.

They soon came upon the docks to the town of Shipwreck, secured the boat and made their way into town. Rose had only seen the town very briefly the last time she was here, and she and Angelica had docked after sunset when her vision began to recede. She notes the dozen buildings that encircled the town square, and the people coming and going between them. It occurred to her that this place was a slightly tamer equivalent to Tortuga, but she quickly shook that thought from her mind as it reminded her of happier times she could never get back.

There stood market vendors selling their wares, a few drunkards milling about here and there, and a few residents conversing here. One could have even mistaken this place for Port Royal had it not been for the fact that no one here paid the ragtag pirate crew just arriving from the bayou any mind whatsoever.

A group of children ran past them, engaged in some sort of game. As one of the older boys passed, Tia Dalma reached her arm out. The boy stopped instantly as though in some sort of trance, looking over at her. She grinned at him and tossed the other piece of eight in his direction, which he caught and touched gingerly. He then held the piece up to one ear. Rose then watched him pocket the piece and run away to rejoin his friends as though nothing had transpired, and she was in a complete bewilderment. Barbossa was looking expectantly at Tia, who nodded to him, saying, “Id be ready ta begin.”

“When?” Barbossa asked in response.

“Soon.”

Satisfied with this cryptic response, the group continued their stroll through town. “Where are we going?” Rose called up to Barbossa from the back of the group. _Please don’t say the tavern,_ she silently prayed.

As though reading her mind, he called back in response, “The tavern!”

Rose felt her heart drop. It had been less than two weeks since Ben’s death, and even though he had used her again and again for his own gains and never had returned the affection she had for him, the pain was still fresh, especially in the wake of Jack’s death.

“Master Turner,” Barbossa commanded, “I want ya with me as we market ourselves to any passin’ captains who might be in need of a crew.” Will nodded at this and fell in step behind him. Barbossa then turned and addressed the remainder of the crew. “The rest of ye, stay out of sight and don’t cause no trouble.”

They let Will and Barbossa walk ahead, then followed shortly thereafter. Rose’s eyes immediately went to the barstool where Ben had sat, and she froze in place. The barstool that Angelica had tossed her into. The barstool where Rose’s love for her childhood friend blossomed anew…only for it to die within a year.

Gibbs noticed that Rose was visibly distraught, and asked quietly, “Rose? Ya alright?”

Tia began to answer for her. “Dis be da place—“

“Don’t,” spat Rose. She turned an icy gaze upon Tia. “You don’t get to say a word.” She looked back at Gibbs. “I’m fine,” she lied, then walked on to join the rest of the crew at a nearby table. She sat removed from them, brooding in her own tumultuous feelings of despair, grief, and fury.

Before she knew it, Will and Barbossa had returned, the latter with a triumphant grin. “Gentlemen, ladies, we depart with the dawn.”

“RAW! Ready to make sail!” Cotton’s parrot chirped.

“Wait, how?” Elizabeth asked, rising from her seat.

“With a bit o’ persuasion from yers truly,” he smugly replied. “We’ll be serving as deckhands aboard the ship of Captain Frees aboard the _Siren Song_.”

Rose furrowed her brow. “Wait, _all_ of us?”

“Yes,” he quipped. “Unless ye have decided to do us all a favor and not come along.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “No, I just am shocked that _you_ of all people to be less than a captain. You? A deckhand?”

Barbossa walked a few paces towards her and grinned. “Not for long,” he growled.


	3. Life at Sea

The _Siren Song_ was a pirate galleon painted bright red, and was quite a sight to behold. The plan, as Barbossa had told them, was for the crew to board and follow orders as commanded by their new leader, Captain Frees. Frees was making his way southward in search of jumping rum smugglers on their way back from the southern continent. This was exactly the direction the Jack rescue party needed to go, as they needed to travel around the southern tip this land mass in order to head back north towards Singapore. They were to remain under Frees’s command until Barbossa felt the time was right to act. Rose felt rather unsettled at the fact that her and the rest of the crew’s fate lay in the hands of Barbossa and Barbossa alone, and she could tell the others felt the same. But they had no choice but to follow his lead, and so there they were, making their way up the gangplank of a foreign vessel.

As they crested the deck, a tall man with long hair placed a hand forcefully on Barbossa’s chest, stopping their progress. Rose could see Barbossa’s eyes flare with rage at being so forcefully handled, and could tell that it was taking every ounce of willpower to keep from cutting this man down right then and there.

“Hey, you lot,” the man sneered. “Just where d’ya think you’re goin’?”

“Stand down, ya bloomin’ cockroach!” yelled another man. “These be the new recruits,” said he. He had a hard, weather worn face and a dark, black beard. He wore a large black hat with a Jolly Roger insignia printed atop it and a red coat that almost matched the rest of his ship. “Greetin’s, Barbossa.”

“Cap’n Frees!” Barbossa greeted, taking off his hat and giving an elaborate bow. With a frantic flip of his wrist, he motioned for the others to do the same. They all bowed their heads, except for Rose who kept staring defiantly ahead. Upon rising, Barbossa began introductions. “I’d like ya to meet my colleagues. Master Gibbs, a smart gent with a keen eye for navigation. Cotton, a mute, but a natural on the wheel. Ya need a gunner? Marty’s your man. Masters Pintel and Ragetti, strong deckhands and valiant fighters. And young Master Turner, well…don’t let his fair looks deceive ya. He be the strongest of ‘em all, I assure ya.”

They all waited for Barbossa to continue, but he stopped introductions there. It was then that Rose, Elizabeth and Tia Dalma all exchanged a glance. They were standing behind the men, and were therefore hidden from view, but it hadn’t occurred to them up until then that Barbossa had arranged them that way on purpose.

Frees was no fool, however. He leaned around Barbossa’s large hat and got a better glimpse at the three women. “And who be the lasses?” he asked humorlessly.

Barbossa turned around to follow his gaze, as if to pretend like he had no idea who he was talking about. Rose rolled her eyes at seeing how flustered he was.

“Them?” Barbossa stuttered. “Oh, no one. Just passengers travellin’ aboard.”

Frees raised an eyebrow. “They be not a part of our deal. I said pirates, not passengers.”

“We are pirates,” Elizabeth cried from the back of the group. She then grabbed a hold of Rose’s arm and put her hand on Tia’s back and led them both to the front of the group to address Frees herself. “This is Tia Dalma, an excellent doctor we have travel with us. Haven’t lost a soul yet under her watch,” she said confidently. “And this is Hexfury and I am Swann, and we are as good as any of the men you see before you.” Rose gave a sidelong glance at Elizabeth, a bit taken aback by the unexpected compliment.

Frees looked impressed by Elizabeth’s speech. “Very well then,” he conceded. “Pintel, Ragetti, join the team to weigh anchor. Turner, on the mizzen. Ms. Dalma, below decks at the sick bay. Cotton, Marty, below deck to aid in storage. Swann and Hexfury, join the rig team. Prepare to make sail, ya filthy bilge rats!”

Rose and Elizabeth exchanged a glance as they each scurried to take their positions. Rose had never rigged a thing in her life, but had no choice but to learn in the given moment.

While they worked, Frees slapped Barbossa on the back. “What’s say you to the wheel?” he asked.

Barbossa heartily agreed, not being accustomed to doing hard menial labor since his youth. Before he left, however, Frees grabbed him by the arm. “I won’t tolerate a dishonest streak aboard my ship,” he said warningly.

Barbossa grinned weakly. “Of course!”

“Then what of the women, then?”

“Just slipped my mind, I assure ya,” Barbossa lied.

Frees pursed his lips skeptically. “They may work aboard as long as yer aware of the risk of bringin’ them with my lot of villains n’ knaves.”

As though expertly rehearsed, just at that moment, a commotion on deck caused both captains’ attention to be drawn to the main mast, where a scuffle was underway. One of the men on the rig team had come at Elizabeth from behind, and defensively, she elbowed him square in the chest, sending him toppling backwards. He quickly recovered and charged at her, but Elizabeth immediately drew her sword. Before he was able to get anywhere close to her however, Rose leapt in his path and used the heel of her hand to smash his nose. Blood spewed vigorously out of his nostrils, and he instantly recoiled, much to the glee of his colleagues who howled at him as he retreated in defeat.

“Believe you me,” Barbossa then said to Frees. “The ladies’ll be just fine.”

* * *

I wish I could report that this was the last time any of the women encountered prejudice while onboard the _Siren Song_ , but alas, that would be an outright lie. 

Rose, Elizabeth, Tia Dalma and the rest of the crew rarely interacted in the weeks that followed, only when their paths would cross while put on the same duty. Despite not knowing much else about ship duties except what Anamaria had taught her, Rose quickly picked up upon more tasks, such as rigging, sail repairs, swabbing and tarring the deck, carpentry, and learning the inner workings of the ship’s cannons. She worked from sunup to sundown, and masked her night blindness well. She refused to sleep below decks with the rest of the crew, opting instead to stay in the crow’s nest for the entire night. This was for several main reasons; For one, she could not handle the stifling heat and stench that accompanied the crew’s shared living quarters. Two, her nightmares wouldn’t allow her much rest anyways. And three, there came a certain amount of solace sitting in her blindness at the crow’s nest, a reminder of the last happy night she spent with Ben.

She undoubtedly worked harder than any other man aboard, and her constant work made her hands grow rough with wear and her skin grow evermore tan. She could tell from worried glances with Will and Gibbs that they thought at times she was working a bit too hard, but she cared not; It was oddly therapeutic to be so preoccupied. She didn’t have time to mourn Ben, or Jack, or her mother, or the gypsies, or her absent father, or the trust she once had for Tia Dalma. The busier she kept herself, the stronger she became both physically and emotionally. Or at least, that’s what she thought.

Despite her efforts, one day, a stout man with a gray beard began to antagonize her.

“Oi, gypsy girl,” he called out to her one day, feeding off of the encouragement of a few friends.

This man, Rose had come to find out, was a Frenchman by the name of Canet. As such, he was keenly aware of the look of the mountain gypsies, and quickly associated Rose with that very group.

Rose had learned to say nothing, as her rage would only incite further teasing. She kept silently tying up a line, pretending not to hear him.

He walked close to her. “Oi, gypsy girl!” he repeated. “Read my fortune.”

Rose looked up at him, face stoic.

“Read my fortune, I say!” he spat. He then leaned closer, his black teeth excreting a horrid stench right at her that she recoiled from. “You see moi et vous, yes? A little moonlight, a little romance, then I begin to take off—“

He never finished his vulgar thought, however for his mouth kept moving without a voice accompanying it. He face suddenly changed in horror, and his hands leapt to his throat in alarm. He opened his mouth wider, and wider still, yet no sound emerged. Rose’s eyes were wide in surprise, but then she looked around the horrid man to see Tia Dalma standing at the forecastle deck with her finger raised, a large grin on her face.

Rose rolled her eyes, tied off the rope and walked away from Canet, who continued to scream silently, as though the harder he tried, the better chance he had at reversing Tia Dalma’s magic. Rose also continued her walk to avoid Tia.

She heard her race down the deck towards her however, so Rose increased her pace.

“Wait!” Tia cried out, sidestepping around her so that she blocked her path.

“I don’t need your help,” Rose snapped, trying once more to go around her.

Tia countered again, however, holding her arms out as wide as they could go. “Da song has been sung, Rose. The Brethren Court ‘as been called.”

Rose narrowed her eyes. “That boy you cursed with your magic piece of eight started it?”

“Aye.”

“And why does that concern me?”

Tia said nothing to this, just staring intently at Rose for a time. Finally, she said intensely, “Dere be a touch of destiny aboud you.”

“Enough of the prophecies, Tia!” Rose cried in frustration. “I don’t want to hear anymore! You seem to have known everything as it has come to pass, keeping things from me that you know will destroy me and making me doubt everything that I am with what you _do_ tell me! Would I have fallen in love with Ben again had the fact that he was undead made him fit your prophecy that I marry a dead man? Would I be in such pain?” Rose shook with anger. She then swallowed, pushing back the hair that stuck to the sweat that had gathered on her forehead. She then tentatively asked the question that had been ruminating in her for over two weeks now. “Would Jack still be alive had I not stayed behind with you to try to kill Barbossa?”

Tia said nothing to this, and only gulped.

“You told me to ‘find him and keep him safe!’ So answer me, then! If I hadn’t left the _Black Pearl_ and hadn’t stayed with you in the bayou, would Jack have died?” Once more, Tia only stared at her. “WOULD HE?” she shouted.

Tia started, and sullenly replied, “No.”

Even though Rose wanted to hear an answer, this answer instantly brought tears to her eyes. “Explain,” she whispered.

Tia’s eyes grew sorrowful as she said slowly, “Him tried to run away from da _Pearl_ as she be sinkin’. Him thought to flee ta save himself. Him later come back, but da time it took let Jones’s mighty Kraken have enough time ta get da best of da crew. If you be onboard as him attacked, ya know witty Jack wouldn’t have eva left. Da fight would have been won, him _Pearl_ been safe n’ sound, n’ da monsta be defeated.”

Rose’s mouth was agape and the tears fell down her cheeks, and she clutched both her and Jack’s pendants he had given her the last time they ever spoke. Deep down, she always knew that if she had stayed with him, things would have turned out differently. All that kept racing through her mind was one of the last things he said to her: “ _You’ll lose. There’s no point in fighting this fight.”_ He was right, as always. He knew even as he killed Barbossa with the only bullet in his gun back on the Isla de Muerta that his enemy would have to return as he was a Pirate Lord without a successor. There truly _was_ no point, and because of her rash behavior, her brother was dead.

“I knew it,” Rose whispered, wiping her cheeks and then spinning on her heel to leave.

“Rose…” Tia cried after her, but this time she dared not pursue her.

All Rose wanted to do was have a moment alone, but Barbossa was suddenly directly in her path.

“Enough with yer dramatics,” he ordered, placing a loaded pistol in her hand. “Meet the rest of our crew by the Captain’s quarters.”

“What?” Rose asked, completely disoriented. “Wha-why?”

“The time has come. We’re either mutinying, or we’re making an accord.”


	4. Seizing Ships and Sickness

Despite having barely communicated with one another over the past few weeks and Rose’s general unease with this group’s mission that she thought to be impossible, she was rather impressed with how quickly and efficiently the group was able to band together and storm Captain Frees’s quarters. Tia Dalma stayed out on deck to serve as a distraction, and Pintel and Ragetti stood guard at the door to keep other sailors out. The rest of them were armed with pistols and swords, and had them drawn and at the ready as they burst into Frees’s office, led by Barbossa.

Frees’s eyes went wide at the confrontation and he stood, hand poised on the hilt of his cutlass. “Mutinous wretches!” he cried out.

Will was quick to skirt around Barbossa and easily disarmed Frees, causing him to hand over his sword and throw his hands up begrudgingly in surrender.

“What in the blazes, Barbossa?”

“It’s _Captain_ Barbossa, if ya please,” he corrected him with a wry grin.

“Ah,” Frees spat. “So this _is_ to be mutiny, then.”

“Actually, no,” Barbossa countered. “Not if we can avoid it.”

That was when Barbossa and Frees took a seat at Frees’s large dining table while Rose, Elizabeth, Will, Cotton, Marty, and Gibbs stood with their weapons still drawn menacingly around the room as the two men discussed what was to be the conditions of their accord.

“As we grow nearer to the southern tip of the world,” Barbossa explained, “We also grow closer to the Pacific Ocean, and to Asia, where our destination lies. These be East India Trading Company waters, and as Lord Beckett’s stronghold over the seas grows ever tighter, you know they’ll be making continuous passage via that route.”

“And?” Frees asked.

“And, I am askin’ ye to help us sack one of these Company vessels. We set the crew adrift, raid their supplies, then go our separate ways.”

“And what’s in it fer me?” said a skeptical Frees.

Barbossa leaned forward with a grin, “Half the goods.”

That was all Frees needed to hear. The next morning, Frees and Barbossa called a meeting of the crew and explained the plan. Someone was posted night and day in the crow’s nest to seek out any passing ship as they travelled further and further southward.

Finally, on the third week of their voyage, Rose was swabbing the deck as she heard the unmistakable cry, “COMPANY SHIP DEAD AHEAD.” She leapt to her feet and joined the rest of the crew who had accumulated at the bow of the ship. Barbossa stood at the forecastle deck, his telescope drawn.

“Aye, she be the one,” he called out. He then turned to Frees. “By yer orders, Cap’n.”

“All hands to the guns, you scurvy knaves! We’re taking the ship! Fire to keep ‘em from fleein’, not to sink her!”

Rose rushed down to the gun deck with the rest of the crew and together with Marty, grabbed a cannon. She began to load the powder and ball as Marty readied the fuse. It took awhile for the ships to intersect paths, but Barbossa steered the _Siren Song_ so that her starboard side was ready to fire both in front of and behind the Company vessel. Noticing the pirate colors she flew, the enemy ship fired first, and Rose felt the jolt of the ship as the first ball hit the base of the ship.

Just then, Rose heard Frees cry out from above, “Very well then! Give ‘em a broadside! Pound ‘em lads, pound ‘em!”

Without any further ado, Rose held her breath and readied for the deafening explosions from the cannons to begin, and begin they most certainly did. Some smashed some of the railing on the main deck, sending shards of wood and some men to go catapulting through the air. Other cannonballs fired to the front and rear of the boat, causing the poor soul posted on the wheel to try to steer away to no avail.

“Give it to them again, lads! Aye…that’ll show the bilge rats!”

Another cannon tore through several sails, causing the ship to stop motion altogether.

Now Rose heard Barbossa call from the deck above, “Those who sail for the _Pearl,_ come about!”

Rose, Will, Marty, Cotton, Gibbs, Tia, Elizabeth, Pintel, and Ragetti leapt to attention, followed by several others from Frees’s crew, which utterly confused Rose, but she didn’t have time to question it further. They raced up the ladder to the main deck and lowered a plank so that some of them could race between decks while others grabbed loose lines and swung across to the opposite deck.

Although they had lost the fight at sea, the Company men were still more than willing to fight man to man. Rose drew her sword, raced across the plank, and immediately threw herself into battle with one of the wigged officers. She countered every swing, and in doing so, was able to distract him enough that he didn’t notice Pintel sneak up behind him and stab him through the stomach. Rose then turned to take on another one.

Just then, she saw Will taking down two officers at once with his one sword, when a third came upon him from behind and kicked his legs out from under him. Will tripped backwards and hit the railing of the ship so hard, his sword was knocked out of his hands and fell into the sea below. Rose was ready to rush to his aid, when she heard Elizabeth cry out, “WILL!” and toss her own weapon overhead to him. Will ignored her, however, and somersaulted through the three officers to grab a loose sword from another officer that Barbossa had killed. He then rose with this other weapon and swiftly disarmed his three assailants, pushing them into a corner and confiscating their weapons. However, in doing so, he left Elizabeth weaponless, and how an officer was coming upon _her,_ sword drawn and ready to slice her throat. Rose raced to her aid, grabbing the weapon off the man Pintel had killed and tossing her own sword at her. Rose was impressed by how swiftly Elizabeth took to the sword, easily killing her assailant, then rushing towards her for the both of them to take on another few men together.

However, just as they turned to do so, they realized that the fighting had ceased. An officer had run up a white flag, and the pirates aboard let out a whoop of joy. The fight was almost too easily won. All remaining officers were loaded into a longboat with a few provisions and were told to flee. The crew then went below deck and found a great deal of Indian spices, tea, silks, and pieces of silver. Frees and Barbossa negotiated a fair split of the goods, though Barbossa had to begrudgingly surrender the silver to keep food, fresh water and warm clothing for their dangerous journey ahead. Rose and the crew then began the arduous task of transporting crate after crate of Frees’s half back to the _Siren Song._

After that was completed, Frees gave the orders to his men to make their way back to his ship.

“Fare thee well, Captain Barbossa,” he said, before taking his own leave. “And pray we not be crossin’ paths again, lest I have to take the other half of yer goods!”

Barbossa smiled. “Not if I be takin’ yers first.”

Frees then walked back, and once his feet hit the deck, Barbossa quickly motioned for Will to take the plank down. Rose then realized what was happening. While the crew had been exchanging the seized goods, Tia had repaired all the tears in the sails while Cotton had rearranged the rigging. Seeing Will take down the gangplank was his signal to let the sails fall, and they instantly ballooned with the southerly winds. Gibbs was on the wheel, having already turned it at a sharp angle so that they could make a quick escape. The ship immediately lurched forward, and began to swiftly take its leave, and Captain Frees turned around in alarm to find how Barbossa had deceived him; For onboard the Company vessel was three quarters of Frees’ crew. In the three weeks spent aboard the _Siren Song,_ Barbossa spent all of his free time charming Frees’ more neutral followers to aid in their journey to Singapore, promising them riches beyond their wildest imaginings at Davy Jones’s Locker.

Frees yelled curses at Barbossa as they fled into the sunset, and the few remaining crew members fired a few shots at their retreating ship, but it was too late. The damage was done, and Barbossa had taken the upper hand. He was now free to lead a ship of his own autonomously to Singapore.

Would but it were that simple, however. What the crew had not taken into account were the Company men they had set free in the longboat. They were soon picked up by another, larger Company ship, commanded by Mercer, Lord Beckett’s right hand man. Upon hearing the men’s accounts of the pirates, Mercer’s interest was peaked upon hearing about a girl among them with light colored hair.

This was when Mercer knew that Elizabeth Swann and the remaining crew of the _Black Pearl_ were fleeing for the Pacific, and began his pursuit after them.

* * *

Their struggles didn’t end there, I’m afraid. The trip around the southern tip of South America, known as Cape Horn, is one of the most treacherous across the seven seas. Not only is this the place where the Pacific and Atlantic oceans mix, but it is also bitterly cold and has some of the fiercest storms. This was no exception for the crew. Barbossa and Gibbs were the only men aboard to have made the journey before, and therefore were also the only ones prepared for the dangers ahead. Gale force winds rocked the ship precariously, causing much seasickness as the pirates tried to keep the ship from steering off course straight into treacherous rocks that graced the shoreline of Cape Horn. Rose and Tia Dalma quickly ran out of fennel and peppermint to aid in the motion sickness, and it was common to find any one of the crew retching into the ocean off the side of the ship. 

Rose continued to work to keep her mind off of other things despite the terrible conditions. However, she was soon called back to her previous life as a healer when the cold and wet of the storms caused seven men to grow violently ill. Two of these men included Gibbs and Will.

Tia Dalma and Rose were forced to work together once more, even though communication between them continued to be forced and uncomfortable. They wardened off a section of the ship, quarantining the sick men to deck cabins to try to keep the illness contained. Their supplies onboard were extremely limited, however, and panic began to set it as the first man died. Then another. Then another.

Conditions weren’t letting up, and Rose and Tia began working around the clock to look after their patients, trading off shifts night and day. On one of these nights, Rose arrived to take over watching Will from Tia, and found Elizabeth sitting outside his cabin door, shivering and huddled in a woolen blanket. She had been like this for days, unmoving. Rose had never questioned it before, but suddenly she grew worried.

“Feeling unwell?” Rose asked, praying that the answer was no.

“No,” Elizabeth replied, to her great relief. “I just…am worried about him.”

Rose narrowed her eyes. It had nearly been two months since they had been at sea now, and the couple still wasn’t talking to one another and she still didn’t know what had happened between them. “You shouldn’t be here,” she warned. “The sickness could still spread.”

Elizabeth wrapped herself up tighter. “I want to be here,” she insisted. “Could I…perhaps go in?”

Rose shook her head immediately. “I just told you how formidable the sickness is. You may not go in. I apologize.”

She nodded in understanding, then settled back into her chair.

Rose shrugged off her strange persistence and entered the room. Inside, Will was pale and shivering, yet seemed to be asleep. Wordlessly, Tia and Rose exchanged places and Tia quietly closed the door behind her as she left to check on the other men.

Rose grabbed a water basin and began to dab at Will’s forehead to help combat the fever. This woke him up, but it had to be done.

After a time, Will hoarsely said, “You can’t stay here all night.”

“Watch me,” she said with a smile. “I’m here for the night.”

Will winced in pain as he turned slightly to face her. “Must be serious, then.” Then, gravely, he asked, “How many?”

“Hmm?”

“How many have died?”

“Three,” Rose said with a sigh. “All Frees’s men.”

He furrowed his brow. “And how many are left?”

“Two others. And Gibbs.”

Will coughed again. “Oh… we can’t lose Gibbs. He’s the last bit of Jack we’ve got left to fight Barbossa’s control.”

“We certainly can’t lose you either,” Rose scolded. “And that’s why I’m here.”

He nodded weakly. After a moment, he said softly, “We haven’t really had a chance to talk yet.”

“There’s not much to discuss,” she replied. “You need to rest.”

“Why are you not pleased at the notion of rescuing Jack?” he asked, his face solemn and eyes unblinking.

Rose’s stomach churned at this forward question. “I…don’t believe it can be done. Not with how few men we have, _especially_ now, not with Barbossa as our leader, not without a ship of our own, and certainly not with whatever bizarre nonsense has fallen out between you and Elizabeth.”

She expected Will to reply with some message of positivity, in attempts to reassure her that Barbossa knew what he was doing, that the crew would succeed in their mission, and that Jack would be safely returned to the world of the living sooner than expected. But he only said in defeat, “I apologize. I know our current state has rendered quite a bit of unrest amongst our crew.” 

“This isn’t a crew, Will,” she said. “It’s a mission doomed for failure.” To this he said nothing, and only sighed. Rose decided to curtail her pessimism by changing the subject. “She waits for you, you know,” she said.

He squinted. “Elizabeth?”

Rose motioned with her head towards the cabin door. “All day, all night. Right outside. Tia won’t let her in because of the sickness, for her sake. _I_ won’t let her in for your sake.”

She was hoping that telling him this would convince him to tell her what had led to their falling out. Each time she had spoken to Will about her before, his entire demeanor would brighten as though she were a constant source of sunlight. She ached to know what on earth had gone so terribly wrong.

But he said nothing. Finally, she couldn’t resist any longer and had to ask, “Will, what happened to you both? At first I thought you were mourning Jack, but now… This is absurd!”

He inhaled shallowly before speaking. “May I tell you something?” he asked. “It may hurt you to hear it, but I need someone else to know what I saw.”

“Saw what?” she asked.

“The last I ever saw of Jack,” Will whispered to her, as though what he was saying was of the utmost secrecy, “He and Elizabeth…” His voice cut out abruptly and he tried again. “Elizabeth…she demonstrated that our time apart has made me lose her for good, I fear.”

Rose didn’t understand. “What exactly did you see?”

“She kissed him, Rose. Like I have never seen her kiss before. A…parting gift, I suppose? A reward, perhaps. I know not. I just know what I saw, and before I could even think, Elizabeth had descended into the longboat without Jack, and has been inconsolable ever since.”

Rose’s head was spinning at this. Although she had barely ever interacted with Elizabeth, she knew from how Will had described her how virtuous and highborn she was. It didn’t make sense to her that a woman like that would sabotage her engagement to a man like Will in favor of Jack. She knew her half-brother’s tendencies toward women of any sort, and she didn’t doubt that Elizabeth could have been the next subject of Jack’s “affections.” But unless she truly wanted to explore her rebellious side, Rose couldn’t think of a reason why Elizabeth would so openly display her feelings for Jack.

No matter the reason, however, Rose suddenly found herself forming a deep-seeded hatred towards Elizabeth. Whereas Rose felt a strained, somewhat unrequited love for Ben, who was killed right in front of her, Elizabeth seemingly had every man she crossed in the palm of her hand. She was engaged to the Commodore, a wealthy nobleman, but tossed him aside for Will, a man Rose truly admired. Now she had tossed _him_ aside for Rose’s own brother? Perhaps this was hatred mixed with jealousy. How could a woman attract so much adoration whereas Rose found only unhappiness? And how could Elizabeth be so heartless as to recklessly break the hearts of the men who loved her in favor of the next highest bidder?

Will’s voice shook Rose from these thoughts as he asked, “I must know…did you know anything? Did Jack ever…ever say anything about Elizabeth to you? They were together alone onboard the _Pearl_ for a few days before I rejoined them on the Isla Cruces, so maybe _that’s_ where this all began.” He sounded truly desperate as he racked his mind for explanation. “Or perhaps it was after Barbossa marooned them on that island back before the curse was broken. They spent a night there. It’s possible that…I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Rose gently tried her hardest to console her clearly hurt friend. “Jack never said a word. He finds most every living thing attractive, and I don’t doubt he fancied Elizabeth, but I assure you that he never held any serious feelings for her, if that’s what you mean. He didn’t even remember her _name_ the vast the majority of the time. He doesn’t feel that way about anyone.”

Will was unconvinced. “I just don’t know where to go from here,” he murmured. “It’s clear she knows that I saw her. She can barely even _look_ at me anymore, let alone come near me. I’m sure it’s guilt, but…”

“Have you tried confronting her?”

“I can’t!” he protested, voice slightly elevated in exasperation. “Every time I look at her…I see her and him. I can’t bear it.” He then collapsed into another coughing fit and sat up due the sheer force created by his lungs. Rose fetched her canteen of water and brought it to him, and he drank from it eagerly while shaking. She waited there with her hand on his back until the fit subsided.

As his breathing grew stronger, she was reminded of the last time she tended to someone like this. She had been standing with Ben retching over the side of the _Pearl,_ furious with her for not having the immediate cure to his ailments.

She was plunged back into despair upon thinking of Ben, and as Will settled back down, she said softly, “If there’s one thing I have learned from my own brushes with love, it is to confront those care about with your feelings before it’s too late and they forever remain unresolved. Act on them before it’s too late. So do speak with her.”

He nodded slightly. “I will. In time.” He then looked up at her again. “Why is it that every conversation we have only seems to be centered around the tragedies that befall us in love?”

She smiled sadly. “I wish I knew.

“One day,” he hoarsely murmured, “I swear it, we will speak on other things.”

“When there’s a reason to smile again,” she sighed. “Now, do rest. If you need anything, you know I’ll be here.”

She waited until she heard his breathing grow heavier, indicating that he slept. Carefully, she raised herself to a standing position and opened the door to the hallway. Elizabeth, sitting just outside, looked up at her. Upon locking eyes with her, the woman who hurt Will and manipulated her brother just moments before his death, Rose felt herself seethe with anger.

“How is he?” Elizabeth whispered, her eyes wide in terror.

“Resting,” Rose whispered back, her jaw tight. “You have to leave.”

“I’m fine here,” Elizabeth replied, pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders. “I wish to wait to wait here until he’s recovered.”

“And I wish for you to _leave!_ ” Rose hissed. “We are undermanned as is. I’m certain Barbossa needs you on deck.”

Elizabeth only looked quizzically at Rose, uncertain of this newfound temper.

“Go!” Rose ordered. At this, Elizabeth stood and moved to return to the main deck, but she paused as she passed. She tried to peer inside the room to get a glimpse of her former fiancee, but Rose leaned so that she couldn’t see in, her expression still firm and unchanging.

Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Did Will ask you to say that?” she mumbled.

“That’s none of your concern. I asked you to go, so _go,_ ” Rose spat angrily.

Finally, she conceded and took her leave. Rose watched as she walked out of sight, and as she did, she thought to herself, _I will find out what other secrets you keep, Swann._


	5. Singapore

The conditions at the Cape weren’t permanent, however, and soon the ship was able to push west around the southern tip and northward. Gibbs, Will, and two other crewman who had fallen ill gradually recovered, and the weather once again grew warm and sunny as they headed straight for Singapore.

Rose continued to keep to herself, particularly making sure to steer clear of Elizabeth. Nowadays, the only person she trusted on board was Will, and even then she was confused by his behavior. Upon recovering, he grew darker and darker with each day that they grew closer to their destination, and Rose could not fathom why that could be.

They were about two days away from Singapore. Barbossa called a meeting to remind everyone of the plan he set in place over three months previous in the bayou. Not much had changed; They were to abandon the Company vessel in order to prevent being spotted by any enemies in the area, taking longboats into the docks. Pintel, Marty, Ragetti, Gibbs and Cotton were to lead a mission to provide artillery just in case things went awry when Barbossa and Elizabeth met with Sao Feng. All the women were to be decoys, planted to either attract attention and be brought straight to Sao Feng, in Elizabeth’s case, or to be lookouts and extra artillery, like Tia Dalma as a blind street performer and Rose as a lady of the night. Will and Rose were to go ahead to take navigational charts that led to the Locker that Sao Feng kept in his family temple, then hopefully be granted a fresh ship and crew to take to the world’s end.

That afternoon, disaster nearly struck. Someone had failed to properly secure one of the sails to the masts, and it came careening down into the water, causing the ship to tilt violently on its side. The crew scrambled to lift the opposite end to bring it upright again, Rose included. As they lifted, Rose tied off her rope, but her long, dark hair she hadn’t tied up that day got caught in her knot, and as the sail took hold, it yanked her head downwards, the force almost strong enough to rip her scalp clean off. Rose, thinking quickly, grabbed a dagger that she kept on her belt and quickly chopped herself free. As she fell backwards from the force, she reached up and felt the lightness of her head. Her hair was cropped to about the length of her chin, and she touched the scored ends gingerly.

Barbossa marched on deck, furious. “What in the blazes have ye done?”

Rose was furious. “I just saved my own life, what does it look like?”

“Bloody fool!” he cried. “And how are we supposed to disguise ya now, pray tell?”

“Would you rather me without a head entirely?” Rose spat.

Barbossa only glared at her. “SWANN!” he cried out.

The next thing Rose knew, she was sitting inside Barbossa’s quarters in front of a looking glass.

Elizabeth pawed at Rose’s sliced hair. “I’m not sure I can do much with this,” she reported to Barbossa.

He was seething in anger with what Rose had done. “Do _somethin’_ to it. It won’t buy us even a minute of disguise as it is now.” He stormed out of the room, grumbling under his breath as he left, “Bloody Teagues…”

Rose could care less what he or anyone else thought. Her hair seemed to be the only thing in her own life that she could control anymore, and even though the cutting of it was a rash action made spontaneously, she liked the way it made her feel. Her head was lighter, there was something different and new in her life, and for once it wasn’t something inherently _bad._ And deep down, she also knew that her actions had impacted Barbossa’s elaborate plans for her disguise in Singapore, a plan she already had some major qualms about with an overall objective she didn’t believe in. So what was she to care if her altered appearance was a setback?

Elizabeth grabbed a rough horsehair brush, the only thing close to a comb she could get her hands on, and began to untangle Rose’s wild, dark hair. The tension was thick in the room. As the days of their voyage unfolded, Rose was making her disdain for Elizabeth less and less concealed, and she was certain at this point Elizabeth could feel it too.

Energized by her rebellious action of that afternoon, Rose sharply asked Elizabeth, “So when are you to be married?”

A cruel question. It was clear to anyone with eyes that Will and Elizabeth were barely holding on to basic human communication, let alone any semblance of a loving relationship.

Sullenly, Elizabeth replied, “I’m not sure as of now. Our main priority is to get Jack back.”

Rose snorted. “I’m sure it’s _your_ priority.”

She felt Elizabeth’s brushing come to an abrupt halt at this. “…what did Will tell you?” was all she asked.

“Everything that mattered. I don’t know what you wanted from Jack, but you’re foolish if you believes in any sort of future with him. Jack wasn't the sort to-“

“I never thought any of that, I’m not a fool!” Elizabeth snapped, sharply changing her position so that she stood directly in front of Rose. “Don’t pretend to know my reasons for doing anything I did that day, or _any_ day for that matter. You don’t know me!”

“Nor do I wish to, Miss Swann,” Rose spat. “All I see you as is a spoiled little girl who’s meddling in a world she doesn’t belong in, using real people as toys that she tosses aside when she’s done with them.”

These words shocked even Rose as they left her mouth. They clearly hurt Elizabeth, for she seemed winded by the verbal attack. After a moment, she stood straight again and returned back to untangling and fiddling with Rose’s hacked hair. Rose knew how little both of them wanted to be there, but they both feared Barbossa’s already temperamental state if they didn’t provide him with some sort of assurance that Rose could once again pull off her disguise for the following fortnight.

A few minutes of tense silence passed, until finally Elizabeth quietly stated, “I want to tell you why I did it.”

“Did what?”

“Why I kissed Jack. I did it to distract him. I never loved him. I just…had to make it look that way.”

Rose furrowed her brow. “Why?”

Elizabeth had been tying Rose’s hair into what felt like a small, low bun at the nape of her neck. She stayed silent until she had tied together the finished product, then carefully walked around to face Rose. She had her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes on the ground, almost as though she was a guilty servant confessing a crime to her master.

She began, voice shaking, “You know how the curse worked. It wasn’t the _Pearl_ the Kraken wanted, it was Jack. If he came with us, it would mean our doom as well. It…it wasn’t an easy choice…”

Rose’s eyes widened and her heart began to race. “What are you saying?”

Elizabeth’s gaze remained on the ground. “I had a pair of shackles in my hand…”

Rose stood so quickly that she knocked the stool upon which she had been sitting across the room. Elizabeth jumped at the movement. “You didn’t,” she said, voice furious. “Tell me you did not do what I fear you are saying you did.”

Even still, Elizabeth couldn’t look at her. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, tears now falling down her cheeks. “I didn’t think I had a choice.”

Rose too was crying, though her tears were full of rage. “So the Kraken only did the deed. _You_ were the one who killed my brother.”

“I didn’t know about you. I didn’t know he had family waiting for him, I—“ she stammered, now nearly hysterical. “But what choice did I have? He was cursed, the _Pearl_ was in pieces, and we _had_ to get away or all perish. I didn’t know at the time Jack could be brought back.”

“And you still don’t know it,” Rose said sternly. “ _If_ we all succeed, he will return. There’s still a chance we may all still die trying to save him!”

Elizabeth finally looked Rose in the eyes. Earnestly, she murmured, “I have to try. Getting him back is the only chance we have.”

Looking at this young woman directly in her eyes revealed much to Rose that she had previously never seen. Elizabeth looked truly exhausted, guilt-ridden, and incredibly stressed. Rose felt herself starting to soften, especially after Elizabeth added one final plea for her understanding: “I didn’t want to kill him, Rose. I’m so sorry.”

It was true. If Elizabeth hadn’t forcibly made Jack stay with his ship, they would have all made a break for shore and the Kraken would have swallowed all of them up immediately. Suddenly, Rose realized something she hadn’t before: Will was an inhabitant of that longboat.

“You were willing to do what was necessary to save Will, even if it meant you losing him forever?” Rose asked in disbelief.

Elizabeth nodded, shedding still more tears. “He needs to save his father,” she whispered. “He needs to survive.”

“You know what he’s thinking as of now, don’t you?” Rose asked.

“Yes,” Elizabeth answered demurely. “He thinks I’m a murderer.”

Rose was about to correct her, informing her that no, Will didn’t think that Elizabeth had killed Jack at all, but instead mistakenly thought that Elizabeth was in love with Jack. However, she was interrupted from doing so when Barbossa stormed in once more. He glanced at Rose, grumbling, “Looks hideous, but it’ll suffice. Now come. It’s time to abandon ship.”

The two women silently moved to obey, following after him, but Rose stopped Elizabeth’s progress by laying a hand on her shoulder and turning to face her. She spoke in a hushed, hurried voice, but she felt an unexpected sense of peace wash over her as the words she never thought she’d say fell out of her mouth: “I will never condone what you did, Elizabeth, but I see your reasons, and I have misjudged you. Just…please talk to Will. There’s much you need to discuss.”

There was nothing more to be said between them. Elizabeth only had time to nod and wipe the tears from her face, and then they had to hurry along after their Captain.

* * *

“I feel ridiculous,” Rose said, wandering along Singapore’s winding city streets. She was wearing heavy layers of makeup to look less like herself and to blend in, but she felt the effect to be completely unconvincing. Although she wore a hooded cloak, the overall disguise seemed to be completely unnecessary, and she felt as though everyone was watching her. She and Will had gone along ahead of the rest of the crew to steal the charts to the Locker from Sao Feng’s uncle, and therefore were still in daylight. If anything went awry however, and Rose was left in darkness, she wasn’t convinced that she could find her way in such a large, complex city back to the rest of the crew with her night blindness. 

“You’re fine,” Will assured her. “I just need you to be my lookout, I’ll do all the work.”

“That’s what concerns me most,” Rose said with a sly smile. “I don’t know if I trust you to pull this off.”

Will gave her a sidelong glance. “Was that a joke I detected? Could it be that your spirits are improving?”

Rose snorted cynically. “Hardly. I think I’m just relieved to be off that bloody ship.”

“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” said he. “As soon as we get these charts and a new ship, we’re off again.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Aye. Off for yet more danger with little promise of payoff.”

Just then, Will shot his arm out in front of her. “Stop!” he whispered. That’s when Rose saw what he had seen; A large troupe of East India Trading Company officials, led by Beckett’s man Mercer, had just landed in Singapore and were patrolling the streets.

Will and Rose darted behind a market vendor as not to be seen. Upon fully recognizing them, however, Rose heard Will whisper, “Excellent!”

Rose furrowed her brow. “What could possibly be excellent about this?” Rose whispered back. “This is yet another threat to our success, as if the odds weren’t already insurmountable.”

“Nothing,” he quickly deflected. “Never mind.”

They waited until the officers passed, then continued on their way. Tia Dalma had given them instructions on where to find the charts, and no one dared contest her information. They were instructed to follow the river to the temple stairs, then ascend. Rose was to wait outside the gates, hooded with a fan over her face as to remain inconspicuous.

After a time, they finally landed at the gateway. Will drew his sword and was about to ascend, when Rose grabbed his arm. “If we don’t succeed,” she said, “Thank you for all you have done.”

He laid his hand atop hers reassuringly. “I promise, Rose, we’re going to succeed. Jack and the _Pearl_ will return. …I need it to.”

Rose cocked her head to the side in confusion. “You need the _Pearl_?”

He quickly corrected himself. “No, I…I need…order restored just as much as any of you. On my life, I vow.”

Rose frowned. “That’s exactly what I fear,” she said. “‘On your life.’ If something goes awry, I will follow you and help you as I can. But if I am the one to fall behind, don’t wait for me.”

“Don’t say that,” he replied.

“I mean it, Will,” she said, her voice high with desperation. “You all have to get away. I won’t have nine more lives on my hands. …I’ve already done enough damage already. If you must get away, keep to the Code. ‘A pirate who falls behind gets left behind,’ isn't it? I’ll…figure something out.” He said nothing to this, so she added, “Promise me!”

He hesitantly replied, “I promise.” Then with that, he began his journey up to the temple.

Rose pulled out her fan and held it so that all but her eyes were covered from passersby. Much like Tripoli, Rose wished that she could have the time to explore this place someday when there wasn’t a very real need to obtain an objective, then flee. Singapore was another unfamiliar place with intriguing aromas, beautiful colors and textures, and winding roads Rose would have otherwise loved to get lost down. It was also a prominent pirate port, and Rose feared for the sake of the locals now that she and Will had seen Company men arrive on the scene.

Minutes passed. Rose began to notice a thick layer of fog roll in as the afternoon passed by. This fog grew thicker with every passing moment, and Rose began to grow more and more uncomfortable with the fact that Will hadn’t returned. _What was keeping him_? she wondered.

A few more minutes delivered her a response, for suddenly she heard a commotion coming down the stairs. First out of the gate came a man holding a rolled up bamboo mat across his back, surrounded by two armed guards. _The map!_ Rose thought in horror. Will must have been unsuccessful. These men were then followed by Will himself, tied by his wrists to a long pole that forced his arms to be spread out wide from his body, being pulled along by four other pirates. Rose’s eyes widened in horror. As he passed, Will glanced intently at Rose and muttered, “Bath houses!”

She was quick to follow them, her heart pounding. But by this time, the fog was extremely thick, and Rose’s vision soon faded to include only shadows of passersby. She was making her way along the streets by touch only, running her fingertips along building and stone exteriors. This took her ages, and the complete panic kicked in when the sun set, and she was no longer able to see a thing. She couldn’t get to the bath houses, she couldn’t even get to the docks. She couldn’t just stay there, however. Surrounded by unfamiliar sensations, Rose continued her way towards what she thought were the docks, walking blindly ahead through the crowded streets of Singapore.

Hours passed like this, and Rose wanted to cry she was so frustrated. She cursed her night blindness for doing this to her yet again, and continued stumbling her way towards the sound of the ocean. Finally, the sound of gunfire and commotion came from her left.

She picked up her pace and raced down the westward streets towards the noise. Fleeing people began to crash into her as she pushed upstream towards the danger. Just then, her vision was temporarily restored by explosions and fireworks that were going off as a result of a large fight between what looked like Singaporean pirates and the East India Trading Company. Rose drew her sword, which she had kept hidden inside her cloak, and raced towards the action, energized by her faint vision. Just then however, Rose heard the click of a gun right at the back of her head.

“GET DOWN!” an East India Trading Company officer yelled at her, pushing her to the side with another group of captured Singaporean pirates. Before she even knew what was happening, she was clapped in irons and chained to the other prisoners, then marched towards the docks. A burning fire in the town as a result of the explosions allowed her to see only a few, last things. Most notably, as she was being pushed into a longboat and put out to sea, she saw the unmistakable image of Elizabeth, Will, Barbossa, and a group of Singaporean pirates race along a far off dock into a brand new ship.

Though her heart was in her chest and her head spun with the distorted shadows created by her poor eyesight and the broad mix of languages in the boat as they cast off towards a Company ship, Rose couldn’t help but feel a sense of joy at knowing that the crew got away and had listened to her final wishes that they keep to the Code. What did she care of her own life? All that mattered was that while the crew would most likely perish on the next leg of their journey anyways, at least she would not be to blame.


	6. To the Gallows

The darkness didn't bother her. That she had grown accustomed to. It was the noise. It was beginning to be light outside, and were it not for the guinea sack over her head, Rose could have gauged her surroundings and known what was happening. But she was now blind and disoriented. Noise was everywhere; yelling in languages she could not comprehend, mumbles and desperate cries, the shuffling of feet on the wooden floorboard beneath them. She had been shoved into a large group of pirates—she could tell by the smell. There was little room, so there was much dissension and unrest in the group and she was displaced everywhere she turned.

A round fired into the air killed the noise. Rose was so taken aback, she ducked low. The noise had ceased altogether. Apparently they had all been shocked by the sudden gunfire. A voice pierced through the air, for once in a language Rose understood. "Silence!" the man yelled. "The first one of you to talk will be killed!"

Rose started when the bag was lifted from her head. Her eyes adjusted to the blinding light as she turned in the direction the voice came from. ”I demand order!" he shrieked again. It was Mercer, that wretched man Will had recognized in Singapore. Having not caught the _Pearl,_ they must have been heading with what pirates they were able to capture. Rose had been here before as a child; This was most assuredly a slave ship.

Another shot rang out. "You are under arrest for crimes of piracy against His Majesty King George of England,” Mercer cried. “As officials of the East India Trading Company, we have been commissioned by His Majesty to convict you of high treason for which the punishment is death."

Rose took a sharp intake of breath. They truly _were_ everywhere. The crown wanted an immediate end to piracy, no matter the costs. This was no slave ship; They were going to make another three month-long journey back around Cape Horn back to Port Royal, where they were to be killed.

They were pushed into crowded lines. The officials grouped the women, five of them, including Rose, and the men, which numbered around fifteen, into two separate groups. They were onboard a large ship which flew the white sails and EITC flag. Those domineering letters seemed to mock them, jeering at their impending doom.

There were five or so wigged men standing on the balcony above, reading the rites of their death sentence. _Serve imprisoned sentence in the brig...the time we reach to fortress at Port Royal...Hanged by the neck until dead...May God have mercy and understanding.._.

Once that had finished, the lines were forced down into the brig, where the men and women were separated by a cloth curtain. Rose could soon feel the rocking of the ship, signaling their departure from Singapore. She would be returning to Port Royal, but this time, she was the one in need of rescuing. And there was no one left to rescue her.

* * *

Yet again, Rose found herself blind in a ship's underbelly, utterly alone in a room full of strangers, only this time Jack would not be there to help her through this one. She was being captured and taken prisoner to a foreign land without any hope of escape. The only time they were taken above deck was once a day for meals, wherein they were served scraps of food like pigs. By this time, the makeup had fully worn off her face. Up on deck, some of the men would call out to the chain gang of women when they would surface, but they all chose to stick together, knowing that the hell they faced below deck was far better than the hell they would have endured at the mercy of those men. Below deck was stiflingly hot, then bitterly cold as they made their way south towards Cape Horn again. Rose was always blind down here, and when sickness hit once again, she had no herbs to help anyone this time. Four of the prisoners died in the freezing, illness-ridden conditions, and their bodies were thrown overboard. 

She never spoke a word because there were no words that could have been understood by anyone else in the vicinity, and instead just leaned her head against the walls of her wooden prison, drifting in and out of sleep. For the most part, Rose was just appreciative that she _was_ blind to the darkness; That meant that she couldn’t see what atrocities the prisoners were living in. The stench was horrible, but she could breathe through her mouth. All that left her with was the sound of their suffering, but even that she learned to tune out. Especially when a familiar face arrived.

 _“That’s alright. Read it again, Rose,_ ” an etherial voice spoke, clear as day into her ear.

Rose’s eyes flew open. There, right in front of her, sat her mother Anna, as clear as day.

Rose licked her cracked, dry lips, and hoarsely whispered, “…maman?”

“ _Read it again, Rose,_ ” Anna repeated. “ _Thine sea of beauty, is without limit, stretching forth eternally.‘Till darkness raises from the deaths…”_

“’Tis shimmering for thee,” Rose mumbled weakly.

Anna raised an eyebrow at Rose. “ _Ma cherie, you’re giving up so soon?”_

 _“_ It’s the end, maman,” Rose replied, closing her eyelids. “I will join you soon, I know.”

Before she drifted off to sleep again, she heard her mother say softly, _“That’s not the Rose I know…”_

* * *

And then one day, the ship stopped moving. The usual, casual sound of chatter in the brig faded to hushed whispers. 

A door opened and light flooded the cell. "Everyone out!" a nasally voice yelled. Rose stood once she heard the excitement of the her cellmates, the hushed murmurs and the rustling of shackles. The cells were unlocked and one by one, the prisoners filed out in an orderly line. Rose's legs were unsteady, but at least the light gave definition to the shapes in front of her. As they surfaced above deck, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the scenery. They were docked at Port Royal, where the fortress that Jack was at one time sentenced to die at loomed over a formidable cliff a mere jaunt away. Now that death march was his sister's to bear. They descended the ship and were loaded into a wagon, where they were lifted to the square.

Rose passed the time by examining her fellow prisoners in the chain line, seeing them all together for the first time in months. All native Singaporeans. Probably Sao Feng's. In the front, an old man, skin rough from years of salt water and sun. Next to him, two young men, probably brothers. Then Rose. On the other side of her, bringing up the rear, was a heavy set woman, cheeks blackened with kohl streaks from the tears she was currently shedding.

Rose had no tears to shed. Her fight was never for herself. Her fight was always to keep those she loved alive and she had failed. She felt she needed to be punished. By comparison, her death was a gift to her and those around her.

The cart pulled up alongside the stone entrance to their death-place. The guards roughly pulled the pirates from the bed of the wagon and forced them in line behind roughly fifty others. Just within her line of vision, the gallows loomed ahead. Seven ropes above seven trap doors. A single trigger. The sight sent shivers down her spine.

Ahead and to her right stood many wigged officials. Two of these men were approaching, examining the line, one tall and one shorter. She caught wind of their conversation as they grew nearer to her.

"Witness the power the new and improved East India Trading Company has over the ruffians, Admiral," the shorter man said.

"Yes, Lord Beckett," the taller man replied in monotone.

 _Beckett._ So this vile creature was Beckett, the man causing so much chaos in the world of pirates. He grinned evilly. "New shipment in from Singapore." He stopped next to a man only a few bodies ahead of where Rose stood. Beckett lunged at the terrified being, causing him to jump and cower. Beckett chuckled cruelly, turning to his Admiral. "Not so tough when you take it all from them, eh?"

The Admiral did not acknowledge this action, but instead changed the subject. "And... _all_ of these people are to be executed, then?"

They stopped right next to where Rose stood. She watched Beckett turn to the Admiral. “They're not people. They're bilge rats. Scum. They need to be exterminated so that our world can be cleansed."

Beckett stood closest to Rose, his back to her. She took the last bit of fight left in her malnourished body and directed it at him. If she could just get at him...she might be able to swing her chain over his neck and strangle the life out of him...

Her eyes met the Admiral's, who had seen her staring intently at Beckett. Beckett followed his eyes to Rose herself, who quickly lowered her gaze.

"My my my," Beckett said, taking Rose by the neck and forcing her face up so that he could peer into her eyes. "You seem to have caught the eye one of _our_ kind, Admiral." His soulless eyes beat into Rose as he sneered, “It would seem as though you were in the wrong country at the wrong time, eh?"

Rose said nothing, returning his glare and matching his hatred. She then made an incredibly dangerous move— Rose spat at him. He immediately released her as he recoiled, wiping his face. He turned back to her, slapping so her hard across the face that she fell down to her knees. A guard was quick to prod her in the left side with his bayonet. "Rise!" he yelled. Rose obeyed with a wince, feeling the sting of his hand still across her cheek. The pain was nothing compared to the immense satisfaction she felt at having retaliated against him even in that small manner.

Beckett, however, was relentless. Once she was standing, he grabbed her jaw with his right hand, pulling her face close to his. "Do you speak English?"

She said nothing. He shook her face. "I asked you a question!"

Rose sneered, then through her clenched jaw, she muttered, "Yes."

"Then understand this," he put his face aside hers, and threateningly whispered into her ear, "We could have done so much worse to you. Especially to a woman. Think of your untimely end as a release. Count yourself lucky, harlot."

He let her go, and her gaze returned to her hands, though her stomach boiled with anger at the horrific threat. She could tell Beckett and the Admiral were still at her side, but she dared not look up again. That was until...

"On the other hand," Beckett said. "What's say you, Admiral?"

"What do I say to what?" he replied coolly.

Beckett grabbed Rose by the hair, shoving her head toward the Admiral. Rose yelped in pain, but had no choice but to look right at him.

"Filth like this is not of my taste," Beckett calmly stated, "But she might be of some use to you."

The Admiral narrowed his eyes. "I rather doubt that, sir."

"Oh but I insist," Beckett responded, causing Rose's heart to race in her chest. "What's stopping you? You cannot otherwise keep a woman in your care, so what's preventing you from taking this gift I am so graciously bestowing upon you?"

The Admiral instantly averted his gaze, his face growing red. After a moment, he said quietly, “I make it a priority not to associate myself with things tarnished by piracy.”

“Oh that’s not true,” Beckett replied cruelly. “And if you honestly believe that, then by that standard no woman will ever come near you again given your own recent past.”

The Admiral refused to break his gaze with the ground, simply stating, darkly, “Let her go."

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"Let her go!" blurted the Admiral. He looked up and glared at Beckett. Beckett did let Rose go, after a tense moment of the two men sharing a heated look with one other. Beckett then walked on without another word. Rose once again looked down at her hands, until she realized that the Admiral still stood by her side. She dared to look up at him again, and was instantly taken aback that he was staring at her, mouth slightly ajar and brow furrowed. Did he... _recognize_ her? She searched his face. Something did seem horribly familiar about him...

"Admiral!" Beckett called from behind her. The man hastily hurried to catch up with his master.

After they had examined the entire line, the two men made their way back to the front of the gallows. Rose searched her mind and the many people's faces she had collected within it. And suddenly, she gasped aloud as she realized that she had met this man before. He had held her at gunpoint not but a few months earlier. This man was Commodore Norrington.

"Let it begin!" Beckett cried out. Shaken from her realization, Rose watched seven people ascend the stairs and take their places, heads bowed. The line move up seven places. One by one, each head was furnished with a rope.

"Admiral," Beckett said. "Are you not going to watch?"

Rose dared not look away from Norrington as he replied, forcibly placid, "Are you not going to read them their execution deeds?"

Beckett tossed his valid question aside. "We'll do that for pirates who can actually understand English. Why waste the breath?"

Norrington fell silent and looked back at the ground. "Watch!" yelled Beckett. Norrington tightened his jaw and obeyed, though doing so clearly pained him. The masked murderer standing at the ready pulled the handle.

The crank was sickening. Rose couldn't look after that, her body beginning to shake. She knew as soon as she was on the platform, all her inhibitions would leave and she would feel liberated, but every excruciating moment until then was a slow motion anxiety attack.

Time was unbearably long in those moments. Her eyes stopped focusing, and once again she fell blind to her surroundings, but this time, mentally, not physically. She could hear every horrible crank and every snap of seven necks at once and every sickening thud as body after lifeless body was thrown atop one another aboard a wagon that would periodically driven out to a mass grave somewhere outside the fortress. Her reluctant legs shuffled toward the gallows with every pause between cranks, and the blood pulsed in her ears. She didn't even wake up from the trance even when the line stopped moving, as she was standing behind a noose of her own. She felt the prickly rope against the skin on her neck, and still didn't think anything of it. She didn't think anything of the executioner and his dreadful steps back to the crank.

She _did_ think when she heard the voice cry out, "Stop!" however. Everyone thought of that. Only then did Rose awaken from her dreamlike state. She looked up in alarm, searching for the source of the voice.Suddenly, the masked man was at her side, and she began to breathe shallowly in relief as he lifted the noose from around her neck.Next, her chain was removed. His firm hand grasped her arm and pulled her out of line, helping her descend the stairs and into the command of a different officer, who marched her away from the gallows. Her stomach plummeted when she heard the cranks and snaps began once again to move...without her.

It took her some time to realize what was happening. It finally hit her when she was led right up to Beckett and Norrington. It hit her in the stomach, as it fell again in total fear.

"I do believe this one will be of use to me after all, Lord Beckett," said Norrington.

Beckett gave a slight snort of laughter. “Isn’t it funny what a man will do for lust?” He turned his shark eyes to Rose, causing her stomach to churn once more as he sneered, “Lucky girl… _for now.”_ He then tossed more insults back at Norrington to further demean him, warning, “Don’t get too attached to your new toy, and don’t think I won’t be keeping an eye on you. Once a pirate—"

“I understand, sir,” was all Norrington replied. Then, turning to the guard who held Rose by the arm, he said, "Take her to my office."


	7. Rose and James

Rose's eyes adjusted to the candlelight in the room. The walls were entirely stone, with one outside window that let in some of the morning light. She could see a table, padded chair, maps and charts nailed to the walls...

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden _clank_ of her shackles hitting the floor. She instantly reached for her wrists and rubbed the reddened skin that was irritated by the rusted metal.

"What's your name?" the guard said, rank halitosis greeting her nose.

"What's it to you?" Rose was on edge to say the least, and was not at all in the mood for pleasantries from someone so vile, both inside and out.

"Ah! A Frenchie!" he cried triumphantly. "Well, Frenchie, you have a special job tonight, eh?"

Rose's heart beat wildly in her chest. "How do you mean?" she asked, although she knew exactly how he meant.

His cackle sent her cringing. "Be wise, Frenchie. The Admiral's a single man! Sendin' for a lovely Frenchie from the gallows. Why else would he be keepin' ya alive?"

Rose gulped for air. She wished so desperately that she hadn't acted so rashly, and created undue attention to herself. She wouldn't have been pulled out of the execution line, for likely was chance that what she was about to endure was going to be much worse than what she would have endured had she stayed inactive. Norrington and his men had fallen behind and presumably turned back to Port Royal once the _Pearl_ had successfully skirted a decently treacherous hurricane. His motivation was only to find Sparrow and deliver justice as he saw fit. He knew Rose was a part of Jack's crew, and he could use her by whatever means necessary to manipulate information, though he would have no way of knowing that his work had already been delivered in the form of Davy Jones, yet another of Jack's all too many enemies.

The panic worsened as Rose heard Norrington approach his door. She instinctively began to pull away.

"Don't be scared now, Frenchie," the guard jeered. "I'm sure you'll have a fine time!" His cackle seemed to match the creak of the door as the Admiral entered.

"Ah, yes. Thank you, Richards," she heard him say.

"Aye, sir," Richards responded, exiting through the doorway. Rose was staring straight ahead, eyes wide and alert.

"No need to stay posted," Norrington called behind him. "I would appreciate some privacy with the prisoner." Rose drew a sharp intake of breath.

Richards released a suggestive guffaw as he closed the door behind him. He left her side and listened at the door for a moment. The moment passed when he decided that it was safe to speak. "He's gone," he announced sharply. Rose's eyes were still wide with terror, and she didn't respond, letting a chilling silence fall between them. She was almost afraid to breathe incorrectly for fear of his killing her right there. His face was hardened and cold, eyes distant and judgmental.

He continued, "I am providing you with an opportunity."

She dared not move, although her heart flew with the mention of the word _opportunity._ She gulped, absolutely terrified. "Whatever you're about to do, I would prefer that you get it over with now and save me the agony of waiting."

He did not react at all to her plea. ”Explain," was all he said.

"Sir?" she asked. _What did he mean "explain?"_

"Explain your story."

Rose considered her options. There was a slight chance that Norrington didn't _completely_ recall her, but perhaps recognized some of her qualities. Perhaps he didn't actually remember under what pretenses they had met. She spoke with specific intent, in hopes of saving herself. "I am with child," she murmured. "The father died at sea. I am alone." But she instantly regretted the words as they left her mouth. It was clear that she was telling a boldfaced lie.

His eyes smiled like a cat pursuing a mouse. "Then," he said, "You will give birth in prison, then be hanged. Your child will be sent to an orphanage and most likely work in the sugar plantations if he is lucky."

His words were cold and harsh, and she swallowed the fear that billowed inside her.

"Don't you see?" he said with an evil grin. "No matter what excuses you have, there is no escaping this fate. So you might as well tell me the truth.” He snorted. “You really thought I wouldn’t recall you yet _again_ despite…whatever happened to your hair.”

So it was clear then. He _did_ recognize her. Her response was fiery and instantaneous. She was most likely overstepping her boundaries, but she was so scared and furious that she dared to be bold. "If there is no escape," Rose bristled, "Then what 'opportunity' can you possibly offer me?”

He blinked a few times, then a sarcastic smirk crossed his face. "I am assuring you the opportunity to tell the truth." He moved from behind his desk and towered over her, his posture straight and strong. "So tell me, miss, after all this time, what _is_ the truth?"

Rose gulped, unsure of what move she should take in this dangerous chess game of fate. "I don't know what truth to tell, Admiral," she said carefully.

"You can begin by telling me how you know him."

 _Jack._ Rose had always promised Jack to never reveal how they were related, as his enemies could find a way to use their blood connection as a weakness. But Jack was dead, and Rose was about to join him. Did that rule still apply? "Why does that matter?" Rose asked carefully.

He raised his eyebrows. "The Redhead act? All for that key?" _He knew about the key to Davy Jones's chest._ "That takes a serious commitment. And," he said, stepping closer to her, "You're not exactly Jack's type. With the wig, perhaps, but otherwise..."

Rose looked him squarely in the eyes, though he towered above her. Then she allowed the words to fall out her mouth. "We are siblings."

He grinned in victory. "What is your name, Miss…Sparrow?" he questioned taking his original place behind his desk, leaning on it.

"My name is Rose Hexfury."

“And this, of course, makes you the daughter of Edward Teague, if I am not mistaken.” He leaned toward her menacingly. "You have his eyes." She quickly looked away. "Pray tell," he continued, "What has Jack told you about me?"

Rose too grinned now. So this was to be a power game. Very well. "He's told me that you have sworn his death and all those aboard the _Pearl,_ which includes me."

His eyes gleamed. "How does the _Pearl_ fare nowadays?"

Rose's face flared with heat as blood pulsated through her veins directly into her face. The game had gone too far. "You know DAMN well how they fare!" she cried.

His face fell. "No," he corrected somberly. "Truly I do not. It concerns me."

"Oh," she scoffed. "I'm _sure_ it does. Well, you've been beaten to the task, Admiral."

His eyes widened. "What?"

Rose considered before speaking. If the impossible actually were to occur, and the _Pearl_ 's crew actually did succeed in saving Jack, she could be damning him again by telling Norrington anything. And whose life was she protecting? Her own? Hardly worth the satisfaction he would receive. But she stood the chance to endure some permanent damage, and for the time being...what was dead was dead.

Rose was careful not to reveal too much, and instead decided to let her words trigger a reaction. "The _Pearl_ is gone. She sank beneath the waves."

The Admiral's face fell once more. For once, Rose saw all his power drain from him. "By what means?" was all he said.

If Norrington responded to what Rose was about to say next, then he truly had done his research in this matter. "Davy Jones," she said.

Indeed, he did not question her answer in the slightest. It seemed that he had truly immersed himself in all of Jack's doings. He simply asked next, "And what of the crew?"

"Dead." Although she revealed this solemnly, Rose did take pleasure in the wince that escaped him.

"They... _all_ died by the Kraken?"

Suddenly, all Rose's power over the situation left again at the mention of the Kraken. This man knew far more about the situation than Rose had ever anticipated. "How...how did you—"

"I am not all I appear to be, Miss Hexfury," he murmured. "Now, please answer my question. _Did they all perish?"_

"No," she finally said. "The only one to die at the hands of the Kraken was Jack. The others got away."

His face hardened. "You said they were all dead!”

"Consider this, Admiral," Rose replied. "The surviving crew and myself were traveling to Davy Jones's Locker to rescue Jack. Your men captured me while the rest made their escape to the Locker. So," she continued, "What are the odds the crew actually made it at world's end, especially with your Lord Beckett's reign of terror across the seven seas?"

He blinked a few times before responding. "I would not put it past that crew to get what they want. They seem extraordinarily fortunate." He began to slowly pace behind the desk. "But Sparrow surprises me. He...I don't mean to pry, but are you certain that he is in fact..." His voice trailed off.

"Dead?" Rose finished. "Yes, Admiral. This much I know."

He looked at her. "My apologies. His humility is certainly admirable, seeing that it usually seems beyond him."

Her throat tightened. She struggled to keep her voice calm as she said, "He was always considerate, yet he always kept that side of him distant from others. However, in the instance of his death, the Captain would not have gone down with his ship. He was...detained."

"Who?" he asked eagerly. "I know the crew. Who killed him?”

Rose tightened her jaw as she spat, “Your betrothed, Admiral.”

Before her name even had the chance to leave Rose's mouth, Norrington cried out, “Elizabeth?" He then started to laugh. “I didn’t think her capable of it, but was right in my assumptions all along. It became too much for her.”

“What became too much?”

Norrington snorted in amusement. “Her attraction to Jack was embarrassingly obvious. The only things that stood in the way of her and Turner’s love affair were me and Jack. I left of my own accord, so she had to cut Jack out herself.”

Rose tried to calm herself down as not toattack the Admiral for his casual behavior towards the death of her beloved sibling, and instead rigidly stated, “I thought it was Elizabeth who left you of _her_ own accord, not the other way around.”

Now Norrington felt the sting of Rose’s words, spitefully countering, “The first time, perhaps. The second time was when I served beneath your imbecilic brother’s reign aboard the _Black Pearl_ as a deckhand little over three months ago. And conveniently enough, you were no longer aboard. How interesting..." The two had indeed barely missed each other, as he and Elizabeth had boarded the _Pearl_ in Tortuga right after the crew left Rose in the bayou with Tia and Barbossa.

She gritted her teeth. "I was needed elsewhere, thank you. And you? _You?_ A deckhand aboard the _Pearl_?"

He smiled ruefully, then looked up at her. "If you can't beat them, join them. A pirate's life for me.”

Suddenly, Rose realized what had happened. “Your ship was destroyed after the hurricane in Tripoli, wasn’t it?”

“And my crew, and my career, and my life.”

“Obviously not for long,” Rose shot back. “For here we are, and it would appear that your wig is whiter than ever.”

Norrington pursed his lips. “An act of piracy lost me the job, and an act of piracy won it back. I stole Jones's heart and handed it over to Beckett."

Rose's eyes widened and her mouth searched for the right words. Her voice shook with fury as she said, "That heart could have saved Jack. Called off the Kraken!”

He moved out from behind the desk and walked over to her again. "Are you suggesting that I am just as much to blame for Jack’s death as Elizabeth is?"

Rose didn't answer, for fear of angering him into physical violence towards her. Verbal sparring was one thing, but this could unfold into something far more serious quite quickly.

He answered for her. "Perhaps I am to blame,” he said, removed. “I am truly sorry for your loss Miss Hexfury, but it seems that you knew a different Jack than I did. And for someone who ruined my life, I cannot help but feel slightly fulfilled that my actions might have led to his undoing."

Her eyes brimmed with tears. This conversation needed to end here. She could not handle this. And there was still the very real possibility that there was an alternate reason why she was called here alone. "Why did you _really_ save me, Admiral?" she blurted. 

He brought himself quite close until he was towering above her once more, saying in a hushed voice, “When I was onboard, no one trusted me with information. They are going to the Locker to retrieve Jack, and then what? Why do they need him back so profoundly? What is their next move?”

Rose pulled back, realizing his true intentions. “You want to destroy us all!” she yelled.

He grasped her shoulders and hushed her. "If they hear us, we are doomed!"

"Perhaps you should have considered this before you relinquished the power of the seas to Beckett!" Rose cried, ignoring his attempts to quiet her. "You could have protected them by staying with them!"

He still had a hold of her shoulders and pushed her against the wall. She gasped at the sudden burst of action, but fought back, trying to scream out. He shoved a hand over her mouth and kept her still. She stared at him directly in the eyes, letting the tears fall, but he wasn't looking back. His eyes were on the door. Once he was convinced that she wouldn’t cry out, he slowly let his hand fall from her mouth. Rose's heart pounded, as she was unable to predict his next move. The first thing Jack had ever taught her was to never trust a pirate— and not only was this man a pirate, but for years he had obsessed himself with every motion of her brother, perhaps the most notorious pirate of them all. The perfect revenge for Jack Sparrow's insolence was harming his younger sister... Rose expected this inevitable end.

"Please," she murmured, eyes filling with tears once more. "I beg again. Whatever you are about to do, please finish it quickly and send me back to the line.”

There was silence for a moment, and then he said, "You really believed all that I told Beckett out there? After all we’ve just discussed?”

Relief flooded through her, though she solemnly said, "Never trust a pirate."

"We are in a strict no-survivor policy. There had to be a reason why you were given privilege. The only reason is if I told them you were my mistress." He released her, returning back behind his desk. Rose remained frozen in place. He turned back to her. "I am genuinely sorry if I frightened you." When she said nothing, he continued. “I assure you, I only aim to aid in this process.”

“And what aid could you possibly offer me, Admiral?" she asked.

"First," he began, "Call me James."


	8. Blind Rage

James had run through several options, then finally stopped at sending Rose to a cell. Before she knew it, she was being whisked away to a stony prison. Rose spent the afternoon there, and eventually warmed up to the dank place. True, half her day was spent in total darkness, but she did appreciate the view when daylight did grace her vision. There was a small hole in the corner of the wall made by cannon fire, which let in enough air during the day to ward off the humid heat of the island. The noise of the gallows's crank was still in her head though. She wondered who was being executed at that moment, as she sat in safety in her cell overlooking the ocean. That horrid memory kept her constantly on edge and in constant hesitancy to trust her relief at the help James was offering her, however mysterious and underdeveloped it was. There was still so much she did not understand about him.

Halfway through the day, she received a delivery. A plate of food with a note which read, "I'll send for you tonight." 

That night, as promised, she was sent for in the form of an oafish official. Rose of course couldn't see him, but she could deduce by his wet cough and scuffling feet that grace and poise were not his strong-suits. This man was Richards, the same guard who had brought her to James in the first place.

"Come on then!" he barked in a cockney accent. Rose stood and walked a few paces slowly in his direction before he finally lost his patience and yanked her out of the cell. As they made our way across what was the courtyard square where she had nearly been executed that morning, he decided to strike up a conversation that ended up being very one-sided, as he threw obscenities and vulgarities at her the entire trip over. She said nothing, and took all of the verbal abuse silently and with grace.

They came to a stop, and she heard the door open. The light on the inside of the room was so dim that her eyes were still blind to her surroundings. She heard James thank Richards, close the door and listen for a few seconds behind it. When he decided that Richards had posted himself far enough away, he joined her where she stood staring at nothing.

Rose heard him move in front of her. “My apologies,” he said. “It occurred to me upon sending the food and the note that you might not be able to read.” He waited for some sort of response from her, but she said nothing. Finally, he tried again, “It said—“

“I can read!” Rose barked.

“Very well, very well,” he surrendered. “Not many of you can. That’s all.”

She didn’t know what else he wanted from her, so she merely stop there silently, unable to see anything. Finally, he grew annoyed and asked, “What in the world is so interesting on my wall that you can’t be bothered to look away?” he finally asked.

Rose was still so on edge, she had forgotten that James truly knew nothing about her except the fact that she was Jack’s half-sister. “Oh. I have neglected to tell you about my blindness."

"You're blind?"

"Only in darkness. Ever since I can remember."

"My word," he said. "Well, I can get more light in here if it would help—"

"The room would have to be practically on fire for me to see anything at all."

"Ah," he said. "Well that still explains a lot. Here," he led her across the room and helped her sit on what felt like a makeshift bed.

"The good news about being my figurative mistress," he said, "Is that you get to spend the night somewhere other than a cell." Rose felt around the bed with her hands, and helped herself down as he returned to his desk, which seemed to be but a few paces off.

After a few more silent moments, Rose asked, “Commod—I mean, James?”

“Mm?”

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I cannot quite comprehend why you are doing this. Bringing me here? Keeping me alive for this long?”

He sounded closer to her when he asked again, “Where is it?”

Rose couldn’t help but feel a bit infuriated. “Where is what?” she asked, although she plainly knew to what he was referring.

“Where are they meeting?”

Rose tried to keep herself calm as she replied placidly, “I’ve already told you. I don’t know.”

“I don’t believe that,” he replied, sending chills running through her. “You’re the daughter of the Keeper of the Code. You’re bound to at least have a name.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” she snapped. “Just because I am the unfortunate offspring of someone important doesn’t mean I am simply graced with his knowledge on secret information! I haven’t seen Teague since I was a little girl!”

James replied calmly to her outburst, as though nothing had transpired. Quietly, he countered, “You seem to think it is foreign to me that pirates do not make good parents.”

“That’s an unfair statement,” Rose fumed.

“Oh is it?” said he. “I’ve seen them. Unwanted children coming here in droves. Left at Church doorsteps, handed off to clergy or orphanages. Accidental products of promiscuity.”

“Not all pirates are like that!”

“Name one.”

Now that Rose considered it, she couldn’t name a single pirate who was a model parent. Not even her own mother. The most responsible, loving figures she bore witness to in the past were outsiders, like Desiree, Tia Dalma, and Bootstrap, who were an extension of family.

James snorted, taking her silence as a response proving his point. “I will admit,” he said, “It isn’t just pirates who make poor examples of parental guidance.” He took a large intake of air and moved on to another thought. “That doesn’t mean you don’t know even the slightest bit of information as to where the pirate lords are meeting. That infernal song has already graced us with its presence here at the barracks.”

Rose turned her head away from the direction of his voice, saying harshly, “Oh I know it has.” She knew from his icy silence that there was no way that Rose could trust James. He had already deceived Jack, Elizabeth, and Will for his own good. There was no other reason why she was being kept alive.

He tried, “Or perhaps you know someone else who could tell me something?”

“Everyone I ever knew is gone,” she instantly replied in monotone.

He stopped speaking for a time after that. She heard the creak of his chair, and she had supposed that he had leaned back, deep in thought over what move to make next. Rose so desperately wished that she could see him. Was he watching her, calculating whether or not she was telling the truth? Writing out her orders of execution? What?

Silence fell between them for several minutes, until Rose blurted, “I understand if the guards come for me tomorrow. You did the best you could. It seems that I have outgrown my usefulness to you.”

“Oh you’re usefulness has yet to be extracted,” James growled. “I will find out what secrets you keep, Teague.”

“Hexfury!” Rose spat through gritted teeth.

James snorted. “Not sure why I expected anything less from your family. Sparrow? Hexfury? You think that some ridiculous surname will separate you from your past. You _really_ don’t wish to be associated with your father, do you? Either of you! What did he do to you two?”

Rose pursed her lips. She had already revealed too much to Norrington by admitting her relationship with Jack in the first place. She was not about to just give up personal life details. “I am not obliged to say anything to you as your _mistress_ , James.”

“But you are obliged as my prisoner.”

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Rose. “Hold on a moment, why didn’t you tell the guards I was an affiliate of Jack’s when you rescued me? Why lie about my being your liaison at all?”

She could hear the creak of his chair again as James leaned in closer to her. “Would you prefer that cell be without food? Or perhaps brutal interrogations by officials not nearly as merciful as I? If this would more suit your fancy, I could _easily_ make those arrangements! By your leave, Ms. Hexfury!”

Rose sneered, “Do it, then! I have nothing more to tell you.” Her fury began to build as the words poured out of her mouth like molten rock. “Have them beat it out of me. See if I care! Everyone and everything I love is gone and probably will never return, realistically speaking. What else could you possibly do to me? Get the guards! End it now!”

When she heard no response, no movement, but still could tangibly feel the heat from his presence near her, she yelled out again, “End it!”

After a sigh, she heard him quietly shift positions, approaching their impasse from a new angle. “Listen to me,” he said intently, “I will tell you exactly why I gave the guards our lie if you make me a few promises. Can you do that?”

Rose considered this, then gave a slight nod once she convinced herself that pirates could always break a promise if need be.

“First,” James said, “Each night, when I send for you, you are always to come to maintain the illusion. Each day, you are not to speak a word to the guards. Anything you reveal can be used against you here. Understood?” When Rose grunted a yes, he proceeded with, “Next, if you don’t wish to sleep on cold stone floors, you must agree to stay in here without killing me, maiming me, or making an escape attempt. I have guards posted right outside that door. They will _instantly_ catch you. Although it’s not like you could get very far with your eyesight condition. If it’s even real.”

“Oh I assure you, it is,” Rose hissed.

“Regardless,” James countered, “Your attempts to best me will be futile. Take the opportunity I am offering you to rest and heal here. Do I make myself clear?”

“I promise not to attack you unless you attack me,” Rose stated plainly.

“Fair enough,” James replied. “Rest now,” he then said. “We’ve run our course tonight.”

Rose gulped, slowly lowering herself onto the cot and turning towards the wall so that her back was to him. She heard him settle back into his chair, and for awhile they were quiet. But then she couldn’t help but give one final jab, “You picked the wrong person.”

“Did I?” he said in monotone.

“Aye,” she said, turning her head back towards him. “You could have saved _anyone_ out there. Every minute of every blasted day on this wretched island you hear them: the crank of the gallows, the snapping of seven necks at once. Seven lives. You could have saved one, just _one_ who might have told you where this supposed meeting place is. Just one who would have cared if they saw another day.” She turned back to the wall. “You have gotten neither person with me. You wasted your chance.”

She heard him sigh, then say slowly, deliberately, “Don’t think for a moment that I approve of what’s going on out there.”

She sat up, yelling, “So stop it, then!”

“IF I COULD, I WOULD,” he shouted back. Then, quieter, he explained, “It is no longer in my ability to implement change as it once was. I’m the Navy. They’re the Company. They own _everything,_ even our King.” He took another moment, as though it had never occurred to him just how terrifying this truth really was until just then. He then added, “I chose you because when I saw you, I saw someone from my past and I could not bear to let the Company abuse you until they got information from you, then just send you off to the gallows again. I could not abide it.”

 _So Norrington does possess a soul…_ Rose thought to herself, somewhat impressed by this surprise change in character.

“Rest,” he said again, and this time she obeyed. She had said all she needed to say.

He, however, hadn’t. “Perhaps tomorrow you will have a change of heart and will correctly decide to tell me all that you know.”

Rose gulped, closing her eyes as if she was in another one of her nightmares. James’s voice cut through the silence one final time. “Hopefully this change of heart comes soon, because I could perhaps arrange some sort of leverage. Otherwise, I’m afraid you’ll be taken out of my charge by the Company themselves, and this will all have been for nothing.”

Although her heart pounded at this dilemma and certain death sentence, sleep came easy to her. Her body needed time to recuperate from the stress of the day, though the rest was uneasy. Her mind raced with the knowledge that she could _not_ afford to trust Norrington in the slightest. This was not going to end well.

* * *

The next day, she was stirred by two armed guards. It was light inside the room, and Rose noticed that James was gone, most likely on a call to any number of duties on the island. She was led back to her cell, lit only by a beam of light beating down hot and solitary. 

As the day went on and Rose was able to marinate in her thoughts in isolation, she grew to become surprisingly at ease about her impending execution. She no longer wished for anything else. She had accepted the fact that Jack and the _Pearl_ crew were all gone forever, and soon all of pirate-kind would follow suit. The East India Trading Company controlled Jones, and soon all of the seas would be regulated as a commodity. Rose could at least live with the fact that she was not responsible for giving away the location of Shipwreck Cove to the enemy, perhaps offering her brethren a few months to make a decent escape.

The only thing Rose feared was the uncertainty of when she could expect her own death. After a few hours on her own, the thought of someone else taking her life with a simple flick of a trigger began to sound less and less appealing. If Rose was going to die today, she would die by her own means.

The gap in the wall was large enough and jagged enough to do the trick. She had calculated it so that she could repeatedly beat her head against the sharpest edge. She could probably bleed out while she was unconscious. Problem solved.

Rose neared the edge and took a shallow breath. She closed her eyes and felt her heart beat for the final time. Leaning her temple against the sharp crevasse, she allowed her eyes to open and gaze out across the open ocean. She had wished for so much more.

 _I’ll see you soon, Jack_ , she thought, as she leaned her body away from the edge, just to hurl it at top speed into contact with the piercing rock face.


	9. Not So Different After All

Richards woke her up at dusk by delivering a swift kick to her side.

She moaned as she blinked awake. A throbbing headache greeted her before Richards could. He was making yet another crude comment, probably something having to do with her obvious suicide attempt, but she was too preoccupied reaching up and touching the dried blood along the right side of her face.

She had even failed to take her own life. Never before had Rose felt so defeated. All sounds seemed to fade into the background as she felt herself be hoisted by the shoulder to a standing position. Almost as though she was floating, as she unenthusiastically moved with Richards from the cell to James’s room once more. Her eyesight was diminishing with the receding daylight, but all she clearly could understand was two things: no one had yet ordered her execution, and she had not succeeded in killing herself. So? Her prison sentence went on.

James opened the door to his room, and Rose could only catch the slightest glimpse of his alarmed expression before he along with everything else around her disappeared into the shadows of the night.

She heard the door click behind her, and James said, “My god! What happened to you?”

“I fell,” Rose said listlessly.

“No you didn’t!” James replied angrily. “This looks intentional. What did you do?”

She sighed. There was no point in trying to hide this. She had nothing to fight for anymore. “As you said, it will only be a matter of time before guards will come to take me to the gallows if I continue not to speak.”

He didn’t answer her immediately. He had left to retrieve a water basin and cloth. He placed both on a side table next to her. “Clean yourself up,” he quietly demanded.

She carefully reached over to her left where the basin was located, finding the water without issue. The cloth was another matter entirely. She couldn’t find it with her mind’s eye. Finally, James took pity on her, taking her right hand and guiding it to the cloth. His guidance ended there however, as Rose was now forced to discover for herself where the dried blood had crusted on the side of her face.

After a few minutes of working Rose saw shadows shift in the room, noting that James had moved so that he was kneeling close to her side. “Why is it that you possess no desire to live?” he asked. “I have never seen someone so keen to end it all as much as you, and I believe I have had it far worse than you have.”

Rose let her hand holding the rag fall into her lap with a thud. “Is that so?” she spat. “Was your mother killed for exhibition?”

“No,” he said calmly.

“And did you watch as your love was killed right before your eyes?”

“No.”

“Were you pawned off as someone else’s slave for most of your life?”

“…yes.”

Rose stopped at this, swallowing her bitterness. She had no idea who this man was, and she suddenly was full of remorse. She tried to think of something to still make her point while moving on from this issue, but there was nothing she could find to vocalize.

James quietly asked, “Have you ever killed anyone?” Rose didn’t realize at first that he was imitating her question-answer technique of a few moments prior, until he pointedly didn’t move on from his question. She quickly replied, “No.”

“Have you ever let someone die?”

“No.”

“Several people?”

“I understand your point,” Rose said.

“I’m not certain that you do,” he countered. He continued questioning her. “Have you ever lost someone’s affections?”

“Yes,” she said firmly.

“Ever disappointed anyone?”

Her mind flew to the last time she saw Jack. How dismayed he was that she was staying behind to help his enemy. “Yes,” she gulped.

“Done something that could never be undone—“

“Stop…” Rose said. She didn’t want to feel the emotions coursing through her.

“No matter how hard you’ve tried?” James finished.

“YES!” Rose cried. “Yes I have! Are you satisfied?”

“Do you feel utterly alone?”

“Good god, please stop with the questions…” Rose pleaded.

“What I am trying to say is,” James explained, “You and I are not as different as you think. I see many similarities between the two of us.”

Rose furrowed her brow. “I didn’t get to this state by choice.”

“And you’re suggesting that I _did?_ ” he said incredulously.

“You had control over what happened to you. I didn’t have that freedom.”

His voice flared with anger as he muttered intensely, “Control? For my entire life I have fought for success, and around every turn I have found only sorrow. I saw an opportunity to regain former glory and I took it. And you dare say that I had _control_?”

Rose felt sorrow for him, but still had a point to make. “You could have let us go in Tripoli. That whole incident with the hurricane…”

He sneered, “Don’t make assumptions about my choices! I would have ended up in the same place as I am now!”

Rose retorted, “Don’t _you_ then assume that you have it worse than I do because you seem to believe that I have had an easy life compared to yours!”

"Aye, the many horrors of living a carefree life with the luckiest pirate in the Caribbean," he spat sarcastically.

Rose scoffed, "And I should say the same for a wealthy Naval officer who has his marriages arranged for him!"

She clenched her jaw defiantly. James only brooded, ”You really believe they are dead?"

 _He means Elizabeth,_ thought she. ”If they aren't," she said breathily, "Your attempts will still be futile, I am sorry to say. She loves Will. That's that."

“No,” he said firmly. “This I know. We have all made our final choices at this point.” He moved away from her and sat back behind his desk. “All, that is, except for you.”

She sighed. “And what choice would that be?”

“To survive or give up.”

She shook her head. “You say that as though I have a say in the matter.”

“I’m giving you a say.” When Rose said nothing, James continued, “Would you _like_ a say?”

“Depends on the cost. There’s a cost to everything that must be paid in the end,” she said, with Tia Dalma in mind.

He said quietly, "I might be hardened to many things, but I am not immune to the horrors of what currently befalls piracy. Yes, I believe piracy is a horrid reign of thievery and vandalism that must be stopped but this,” he said, alluding to Beckett’s tyranny, “This is not the way. I have been a pirate and I know that humanity can exist in these people. And I see that humanity in you. And I would like to help if I can."


	10. Prepared to Talk

When she awoke, James was gone again. Two guards arrived to escort her to her cell and the trend repeated. She received a plate of food with a note that promised another evening of deliverance, and shortly thereafter, a guard would arrive to lead her back to his room. That day, however, James had his door cracked to hear what her escort was insulting her with before she arrived, having heard what sounded like foul play occurring just outside his door. He heard him call her a "whore." The door immediately swung open and Rose's escort jumped in surprise.

"Oh! Sir, I...uh..."

"You would be wise to keep your comments about Miss Hexfury to yourself, Mister Baker," his ice cold voice sharply pierced. In spite of herself, Rose smiled at his efforts to protect her dignity.

"My apologies, sir. I didn't know you were standing there."

Rose could feel the chilling silence that proceeded. James then said to her, grabbing her hand and leading her inside, "Rose, if you would care to come in, I'll be right with you." He left her inside and joined Baker outside the room.

Rose quietly snuck toward the door, which James had forgotten to close all the way. She heard the exchange that proceeded:

"I couldn't help but notice, Baker, that you apologized for not knowing I overheard you, and not that you dishonored her."

“Honor, sir? She's a pirate! She has no honor!"

"She's still a woman, and I will not tolerate that language around her. Make that clear to your friend on tomorrow's night shift...and every shift forthwith! Or perhaps you would prefer that I take you all before Beckett and he can deal with you!"

Rose was beaming. That was until she heard Baker's unfazed response:

"Beggin' your pardon, sir, but you have no such authority over me."

"Excuse me?" asked James furiously.

"You fell into a disgraced state. And now you've returned and immediately began...let's call it _courting_ a pirate gal condemned to death. And keepin' 'er alive all this time. The men are prepared to speak."

Rose gasped silently. This life was not to last much longer. James would have no choice but to give her up, lest he himself be hurt, and Rose was not about to let that happen. Not after all the unwarranted kindness he had shown her.

James kept calm surprisingly well. "Is this to be blackmail, then?"

"If you care to call it that sir, then yes."

She heard James turn, to which she instantly backed up to avoid him knowing that she had overheard the conversation. But he never opened the door. She leaned forward again to hear what was now occurring.

She caught the tail end of James's intensely whispered threat to Baker. "...between you and me, then. If _I_ ever hear you say those things to her again, you will answer to me. Cut out Beckett altogether. Understood?"

This was not wise. If Baker was in the least bit spiteful, which it seemed that he was, he could rush to Beckett at any moment and give Norrington’s plan away, whatever plan it was.

So engrossed was Rose at this new threat to his and her safety, that she never heard the door open.

"How much did you hear?" James asked softly.

Her silent response provided his answer. After a moment, he took her arm and led her to their typical conversing places.

“I don’t care what they say about me,” Rose finally said. “I’ve had far worse thrown at me in the past. And after all, I am a prisoner. I deserve no better than anyone else.”

When he said nothing in response, Rose decided to change the subject. In a humorous tone, she mused, “I do wish that I could have experienced what it feels like to be on this island without being either in hiding or being hunted,” Still silence. She added cautiously, “Each time I have been here, it’s always had something to do with hangings. I’m sure it’s a lovely island otherwise.”

“You aren’t missing much,” he muttered.

“So…you live here? In this room?”

He was quiet for a moment, then he responded, “It might not be much better than a cell, but yes. I don’t have any other home.”

“Oh,” she said simply. This was bewildering to her, as she assumed that an Admiral would have better facilities at his beck and call.

Reading her tone and assuming that these were her exact thoughts, James corrected himself. “I _did_ have someplace else, but…that’s all gone now.”

Rose nodded understandingly, then decided to change the subject. “It is a beautiful looking island, at least from afar. Certainly there must be good times here.”

“It used to be that way,” he said morbidly. “Perhaps it could have stayed that way had your half-brother not graced our shores with his presence. That’s when things changed around here.”

Rose shifted restlessly in her seat. “But surely it can’t all be bad. For instance, what would one do for fun here?”

There was a hint of amusement in his voice as he replied, “Port Royal is nothing like Tortuga, Rose. And I am not the man to consult about leisure here.”

She was not giving up that easily. “But what about dancing? Parties?”

“I only ever attended to make an appearance.”

Rose leaned forward. “You are just about the most morbid person I have ever met,” she said good-naturedly, giving a wry grin.

“Says the girl who not a fortnight ago said she had nothing left to live for.”

Her face fell back into a somber expression as she stated earnestly, “If I am to remain living, I need something to look forward to.”

“And what about you?” he said in a little more light hearted manner, leaning towards her. “What fun was there in the place you grew up? A pirate ship? Jolly good times pillaging and killing, eh?”

“I never lived there for long,” Rose corrected. “But regardless, there’s fun to be had anywhere.”

He snorted. “Aye, trade places with me for a day and you’ll see just what happiness exists in my world,” he muttered again bitterly.

This did not phase Rose, for she merely leaned back against the stone wall and mused, “Just as you intend to crack the truth from me, I intend to find the fun in you, Admiral.”

“The difference in our plans is that mine actually has a practical application.”

“And mine doesn’t? My god, when was the last time you actually smiled?”

He was silent for a moment, then gave a slight laugh as he reminisced. “I suppose it was Tortuga, now that you mention it. It was a rum-induced stupor, but losing everything has a funny way of clearing the mind. It showed me how the other half lives. And I had lived for so long thinking my life as good and theirs evil, and when I finally crossed to the opposite side of things…” His voice trailed off, and then he suddenly shut down with a sharp, “Never mind.”

“No, what?”

He paused, until finally muttering, “It’s just…suddenly I found myself to be the villain.”

“Why?” Rose asked, her voice low.

“Because the villain never prospers in stories. I had been deceiving myself the whole time."

"Why return to your own life then, if you weren't happy?"

"I don't belong in your life, Rose. Yes, I was unhappy with mine, but at least I _could_ belong. Only now do I find that even that notion is pure fantasy.”

Silence descended again, but his words were troubling. All of a sudden, sounds of rustling around stirred Rose from her thoughts. Before she knew quite what was happening, she felt James sit next to her. A cold glass object was pressed into her right hand, and she moved her hand up its shape to determine that it was indeed a bottle. Smiling, she took a sip of the rum, though she had never been much inclined to the taste before, she would make an exception to this moment of rare kindness from James.

“I took a page out of Jack’s book,” he explained. “Hate to admit it, but the fellow does have a point with the blasted drink.” After, she passed it back to him, and they continued to pass it between them until the supply was depleted. The silence in this moment ballooned into mutual respect in this simple action of drinking together, but Rose found herself so immensely grateful for the temporary removal of all of James’s defensive qualities.

She smiled warmly and turned towards her now relaxed and peaceful companion, saying in the kindest way she could muster, "I think you can find joy by being the hero in this world of villainy. I think you are doing the right thing— and I am not just saying this because it's my life you are saving."

Silence. Rose had no way of knowing if he was smiling in agreement or staring blankly into the dark void that he saw his life as. But she felt his arm press against hers, a simple action that emphasized all the support she needed.

Warm and soothed from the drink, Rose gradually lost all concept of space and time and let her mind drift off into sleep. Her mind remained relatively still until her recurrent nightmare began to encroach on her peaceful slumber. Everything was as it usually unfolded: she would run straight into Ben’s arms, then he would suddenly shift, tossing her into a seemingly bottomless ravine. Ben’s twisted, maniacal grin would grow further and further from her, and right as her body made contact with the ground, she would usually awaken, but there were times when Rose would not wake upon hitting the ground, and instead bathe in the immense pain that surrounded her broken body. Another man would then appear out of the shadows and begin to slowly piece her back together, though she too could not make out his face. Tonight, however, Rose caught her first glimpse of who this second man was, and the revelation jolted her out of the world of the dream and back into reality; the man piecing her broken body back together was James.

Rose quickly blinked awake, her pulse elevated. Her eyes adjusted to the sunlight streaming into the room, and only then did she realize that not only had she and James had fallen asleep in the same positions in which they had shared the bottle of rum, but James was still asleep by her side, his head resting against the wall and her head resting on his shoulder. Gingerly, Rose sat up, still greatly disturbed by her dream. As her heartbeat slowed to a manageable rate, she took the opportunity to study him. She hadn’t clearly seen him since the first day he had called her out of line, as every meeting proceeding had been at night. She had no idea that he didn’t wear the wig when they were alone together, instead letting his natural brown hair show. He had a strong brow and jaw that seemed tense even as he slept, and Rose couldn’t help but notice how swollen the areas under his eyes were. He was clearly under a great amount of stress, and she suddenly found herself thinking thoughts of concern about his wellbeing.

She looked away and stayed staring at various objects in the room until a knock from one of the guards posted outside stirred James and she was soon after taken back to her cell, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts and confusing emotions.


	11. Pirate

Night four.

Rose was deep in thought about what happened the night before as she stared out the hole in the wall. Throughout the day, she had to keep reeling her thoughts back in, for they raced away from her uncontrollably. In the dreams, James had repaired her. What did that mean? Would their encounter help fix whatever residual hurt she felt from losing Ben? What would do the fixing—his words? His insight about her life? …or could it be something more personal? She tried to shake these thoughts as they progressed, but she could not escape her sudden worry for his wellbeing, and near infantile musings about perhaps her finding a means by which she and James could both get away. He had opened up to her, and she trusted that he was a _good_ person…perhaps there was a way she could make a happy ending herself.

But then logic would once again fight its way to the front of her mind, and she would feel foolish and realize how erratic these feelings were. She drew her focus to the hole in the stone wall. If it was only slightly larger, she could escape, guaranteeing her safety, preventing any leaked information about Shipwreck Cove to the enemy, and protecting James once and for all. She found a nearby brick and started to pound away at the wall, trying to make the hole bigger. For hours she tried. Nothing budged. Before she knew it, the time had come for her to see James again, and she felt equal parts of both elation and dread at this fact.

Rose was being escorted to his room that night by Richards, the first disgusting guard she had encountered, when suddenly they entered a hallway she didn't recognize by sound or smell. It wasn't their normal jaunt across the courtyard. Instead, it was a different outdoor alcove, for she could feel rain from a nighttime shower as it poured down over her head.

"I hear you've taken quite a liking to the Admiral, Frenchie," Richards said over the pounding rain.

Rose remained silent as she usually did in these situations. It was better to silently receive their abuse than fight it.

"I hear he's taken quite a likin' to you too," he continued. "But that's not surprisin'. The Admiral would take a dog fer a mate after bein' passed up by the Governor's lass for a blacksmith." Her chest puffed with fury at this, but she could do nothing but stare straight ahead, blind to the aggression directed at her.

"Hear what I said, Frenchie?" Richards growled. "You're nothing but a mangy bitch!"

Rose didn't anticipate the first blow. She fell to the ground, completely disoriented. He delivered a swift kick to her stomach, which left her sprawled on the cold stone floor. She gasped for air as he pulled her back up by the hair and punched her about the head and chest. She flailed her arms wildly about, trying to find him to fight back, but it seemed as though his blows were coming from every direction at once.

She fell again, this time on her shoulder. She cried out for help, internally wishing for James. For Ben. For Jack. For her mother. But no one could hear her over the rain in this secluded part of the fort. Richards had been careful in his planning of this attack. When he had finally had enough, he grabbed her by the hair once more and dragged her up, forcing her to stand even though it was excruciating. She felt the sharp point of a blade poke her back, and she instantly began to walk forward across the sopping wet courtyard. Any time she let out even the slightest whimper in pain, he would prod her with the knife and grasp her tighter by the arm.

They arrived at the start of the corridor where James's office was. Rose could hear the conversing voices of several other guards down the hall, and she felt Richards release the blade at her back. A slight amount of relief fell over her at the thought that at least he wouldn't physically harm her any more tonight. However, he left her with a final threat when he leaned into her as she desperately gasped for air in anguish.

"This never 'appened, understood?"

She mumbled in faint agreement.

"Ye know they'll never believe ya, eh?"

Rose said nothing.

"You mention my name, to Norrington or anyone else, you and your lover are as good as dead. But never fear, Frenchie, at least you'll be hanged together," he wickedly whispered.

He then proceeded towards the office with her. As they were seen by the few other guards that stood by, Rose heard various exclamations at what she assumed was her mangled body.

"Bloody hell!"

"What happened here?"

"Did you find her like that?"

"Aye," replied Richards. "The wretch is clearly suicidal."

Rose fumed silently at the boldfaced lie, and listened to noises of pity emerge from the other guards.

One remained uncertain, however. “Is there a way one could inflict wounds like that upon themselves, though?”

"Could another prisoner be attacking her through the bars?" another asked.

Rose could feel Richards growing anxious at the speculation from his comrades. "For all we know, it's the Admiral," he said, voice tense and high.

"Do you think he would do something like that?" the first skeptic asked.

"I wouldn't put it past him. The Admiral's been though a lot. He's a hard man to read."

This answer seemed to be enough to qualm the remaining of the already limited few concerns the men had towards Rose's fate, and she next heard one of them knock at the door.

"My god!" James exclaimed upon seeing her. Furious, he looked to his men. "What is the meaning of this?"

Richards, feigning innocence, exclaimed, "No way of knowin', sir. I found her like that this evening, sir.”

"Likely," growled James sarcastically. Rose felt the warmth of his hand touch her arm as he asked, "Rose?"

She could almost feel Richards' eyes pore into her like lightning. She swallowed her pride, pain, and fury, simply replying, "I'm fine."

James put his hand on her back and led her inside, slamming the door behind him and causing Rose to start. This surprise quickly was surpassed by another surprising sight—James himself. She could see him clearly tonight.

He set her on the bed and rushed for water. Sitting at her side, he began to clean the blood out of her hair and off her face.

"Tell me what happened immediately!" His voice was elevated with rage.

"I..." she struggled. "I can see you...how?"

He gave a concerned smile. "More lamps. I wanted you to be able to see tonight."

Rose looked around the room. Every nook, ledge, and available flat space contained a lit candle or oil lamp. She weakly laughed. "Thank you."

"Rose, you must tell me who did this!"

"Does it matter?" she muttered. "You know who is responsible; those who want you gone."

His eyes were sorrowful. "If I would have known, I wouldn't have sent for you. You know that, don't you?"

"Of course," Rose whispered. "I...I tried to escape today."

He gave her a skeptical look. “You promised me that this wouldn’t happen. You went back on your word!”

Rose closed her eyes, sighing. "I thought it was the safest way. Then you wouldn't be responsible."

"I'll be responsible no matter what happens. I allowed for you to live, and therefore, escape." He continued to clean up her hopelessly damaged face, cursing the men responsible. Even though a part of her wanted to, Rose wouldn't tell him it was Richards who acted alone, lest he get himself into more trouble by killing him while she was asleep. Better to let him think he was outnumbered and save his life for one more night. Plus, there was Richards' threat looming over her head that he would find a means of killing them both if she did. No matter how much she wanted to see the bastard suffer for what he did, it was ultimately unwise to pick this one minor fight.

Finally, James said softly, "I have news of my own." Rose opened her eyes eagerly, hoping that perhaps he had a plan of escape. "Beckett called me into his quarters today. I am to take command of the _Flying Dutchman_. I depart tomorrow."

She deflated. "So the guards told him about me then."

He silently affirmed her concern. "Their intent is twofold. They put an official in charge of Jones, and while I'm gone, they will kill you.” James looked at her to gauge her response to this news, but Rose was unsurprised at this development. She knew that certain doom loomed over every possible avenue of escape. James continued, “And I don’t honestly see much of a future in it. There’s a reason why Beckett’s handing this task over to me. If Jones and his crew retaliate, and it would make perfect sense that they _would_ , I am the most expendable.”

Rose swallowed any apprehension and had a moment of courage as she boldly suggested, “You can come with me."

He didn't skip a beat. "No," he said firmly. “They will find me. They will find you. And they will make our lives hell."

Rose smiled. "Our lives are already hell. They cannot possibly make it any worse."

He smiled back, not looking at her, but focused on his work. "Tell me," he said. "Why this sudden bout of hope after you wished yourself dead not but a few days ago?"

"You've given me the hope I lacked." Rose grabbed his hand to stop his progress. She struggled to sit up to address him. "There was no one left for me. I had driven them all away or lost them somehow. You accepted me without question. And that was particularly unlikely knowing my past and yours.” She looked earnestly at him. “I did nothing but doubt that the _Pearl_ would return from the dead with Jack and Elizabeth and the rest of the crew,” she said. “But now I question my doubts. Their odds are very good. They always were."

Though they had known each other but a few days, she was ready to give everything up for his sake. It was a curious thing, but she began to feel something close to the care she felt for Ben not that long ago. The affection she felt she could never trust because Ben himself did not share it. James was from a different world than she, but this did not deter her from her feelings. She leaned her head closer to his and said quietly, "I am not certain that you understand," He looked up into her eyes, and she searched his. "I _want_ you to come with me. We'll protect you."

"I..." he began. His eyes looked distant and uncertain. Rose put her hand over his comfortingly.

"I am begging you," she said. "Remember how you said you couldn't live with yourself knowing that you were free while you handed me over to be killed? I'm now in the same position. The only way for either of us to be satisfied is if we give the chance for us to both stay alive or both die. I know this!"

Her hand was still over his when she leaned in for the kiss. It was pure, but uninspired, as though James was not returning the affection. No different than Ben after all. She pulled away slowly, but just as she did, he leaned in for another, which utterly confused her. But when that had finished, they looked at each other for a moment, and he placed an unsteady hand on her cheek.

Rose laughed through a smile, and she leaned in closer toward him. Her face fell solemn when she decided at once to tell this man the truth, thereby revealing what he had wanted from the start. If this was to be their decided fate, their escape plan had to begin with their destination, and Rose couldn’t afford to keep it concealed any longer. “I _do_ know where the pirates will be going.”

He cocked his head. ”Where?"

”You mean, you wish to go with me?” she asked.

"As soon as we can!" he murmured.

"You really mean it?” Rose beamed.

He nodded. "You said you know where the pirates are fleeing? Where is that?"

She answered without hesitation. “It’s called Shipwreck Cove. It’s a pirate fortress. There are people there who can help us. You said you had heard the rallying song, aye?”

“Aye,” he replied.

“As the song has been sung, the pirate lords are convening. Which is why Jack must be saved. He is the Pirate Lord of the Caribbean.”

“And how will we get there?”

“Barter with pirates. I grew up not far from there, but I’m not certain how to get back. It’s uncharted territory, but every pirate captain worth his weight is sure to know the way.”

James leaned away from Rose, and nodded solemnly. Then, he cried out toward the door, "Guards!"

"What?" Rose said. But less than a second later, six officials spilled into the room. James had stood, hands behind his back placidly. Two of them grabbed Rose by her forearms and hoisted her to her feet, while the rest were poised with bayonets, ready to strike.

Rose felt as though Richards had delivered another blow to her chest. "No!" she said. "This cannot be!"

James seemed to be looking right through her, completely ignoring her protests. "McCormick!" he called to one of the men. "Inform Lord Beckett that we have the name of the pirate fortress, and that our prisoner shall be executed with the rest tomorrow afternoon."

"But sir," the man known as McCormick protested, "Tomorrow's Sunday. No hangin's on Sunday."

"Quite right," replied James with a disturbing sense of calm. "First thing Monday then."

Rose writhed to get at him. The betrayal she felt was more than she could bear. "James, I trusted you!”

She felt a bayonet prod her in her side. "You shall address him as Admiral Norrington!” a nondescript voice barked.

She glared back at Norrington, furious tears spilling down her cheeks. Finally, he dared look at her, but his eyes were cold, distant, calculating. "Rose..." he began.

"How could you do this?” she spat.

He straightened up, brow furrowed. Turning away, he said curtly, "Take her away."

"No!" Rose cried, as the men began to drag her out, back into the rain. "NO!" she shouted. She planted her feet, and yelled to the back of his head, "Congratulations, Admiral. You just became the villain!” They pulled her from the room, where she continued screaming curses at him all the way back to her dungeon.

James had been called many things by many people throughout his life, and most of them were negative. _Coward, foolish, defeated, incapable…_ None of them hurt him nearly as much as these words from Rose: _Congratulations, Admiral. You just became the villain._

 


	12. Who's to Have the Key?

“BASTARD!” Rose screamed out, alone in her cell. Although already in a great deal of pain from her beating earlier that evening, she threw herself against the iron doors in a hysterical fit. Again and again she charged at the bars, but nothing budged, and she wasn’t heard.

 _“Read it again, Rose._ ”

Rose instantly stopped her fit, swinging her head around, eyes wide. She shouldn’t have been able to see anything, but there, in the utter darkness of her blindness, stood her mother, arms crossed.

Rose shook her head. “You’re not real,” she whispered. “You’re just a vision from the past.”

Anna gave a crooked smile and raised an eyebrow. “ _Perhaps not, ma cherie. But do you know what is real? What you have just gotten yourself into.”_

Rose began to pace her cell. “I know. That… _bastard!_ He betrayed me!”

Anna’s vision suddenly appeared in her path, stopping her. “ _I could have told you that, cherie.”_ She then leaned down to peer into Rose’s dark eyes with her own, glimmering purple pair. _“Did you think he loved you?”_

“I…I don’t know!” Rose said in a panic, running her hands through her matted hair. “He…he made me believe that he wanted to help me. And I thought that we were so similar…” She began to cry. “He did it just to get me to trust him, didn’t he?”

Anna gave a slight nod. “ _The Admiral’s a clever man. You were foolish to let your guard down.”_

Rose felt a pang of anguish at these words. She turned away. “I know,” she said demurely.

Just like that, Anna materialized in front of her once more, again blocking her progress. _“I don’t think you do. Did my pain teach you nothing?”_

“He’s not like my father!” Rose protested. “How could I learn from your mistakes when I saw no similarities?”

 _“He is exactly like your father!”_ cried Anna. _“All men are the same, cherie. Even your beloved Benjamin._ ” Rose was visibly shaken at the mention of Ben’s name, and this vision of Anna capitalized on this visceral reaction. _“Or is it that you have forgotten your love already? How long has he been dead again?”_

“Stop it!” Rose spat.

“ _You seem to have moved on rather quickly to another man. Another heart.”_

“Ben never loved me!” Rose shouted this, and when she did, she took a moment to realize the truth of her words. She had heard Tia Dalma tell her this many months ago when she was initially mourning Ben, but never was it real until she was speaking it aloud now. “He…he never loved me. He needed my help, nothing more.”

 _“Aye, as did this one. Ben needed your help, and you gave it all to him. The Admiral needed your information, and you gave it all to him.”_ Anna sneered as she continued, “ _Edward’s other child only needed you when it was convenient for him.”_ She then leaned closer to her daughter. “ _When will you learn, cherie, that there is no one else in this terrible world but you? If you do not put yourself above all else, if you trust anyone else but yourself, this is how you meet pain.”_

Rose recoiled. “Aye! I gave everything I had to help people who hurt and used and sometimes even hated me! But I’m not like you, maman. You trusted no one and where did that get you? You were bitter and alone until the day you died!”

Anna opened her arms out wide and looked around. _“Et vous? Are you not alone and destined to die here in a fortnight?”_

Suddenly, a smile formed across Rose’s lips. “No, maman. I was never alone, nor am I now, nor shall I die in a fortnight.” Her eyes shined as she murmured, “I must go to Shipwreck Cove.”

_“Pourquoi, cherie? To warn them all before they die?”_

“Precisely. I must go to them.” Rose started to pace again as she thought. “I must make up for what I’ve done and make it to Shipwreck Cove to warn them of what awaits them. The song has been sung, so the pirates are convening as we speak. Pirates from all over the world will be there…”

 _“And who else do you think will be there?”_ Anna asked from behind her.

Rose stopped. “Father.”

Anna came around so that she was in front of her daughter and looked at her skeptically. “ _And you honestly believe he’ll help you? After how he treated you? After how he treated me?”_

Rose grabbed hold of the two mother of pearl pendants. “With Jack gone, he’ll have no choice but to hear me this time.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “ _Once again a slave to man, cherie. I did not raise a daughter to be subservient to anyone.”_

 _“_ You didn’t raise me!” Rose screamed out. Anna cocked her head to the side, interested in her outburst, but radiating a silent rage beneath her expression. Rose continued, “You gave life to me and taught me English, _that’s all._ You know who raised me? Desiree. Jack. Bill Turner. The McHenry’s. Tia Dalma. I know not my parents, for you were just as absent as Teague was! And I am _no one_ ’s slave!”

With this, she turned from Anna’s vision and paced once more. She began talking out a plan to herself. “The pirates must fight if we are to end this. Yes, I have given up the name, but that’s all they have! I can beat the Company there, and we can rally every pirate ship that still sails! The only matter at hand is my escape…” Rose then realized how massive this one hitch in her plan truly was, and she stopped. She turned her head. “How will I…”

Anna was gone.

“…escape?” Rose finished.

 _Read it again, Rose,_ she heard her mother’s voice tickle her ear as though blowing past her through the wind.

“I must escape,” whispered Rose.

* * *

"Hello?" 

Rose stirred at the sound. She blinked awake, but still could see barely anything. This was in part because though it was morning, dark clouds still warranted an utter downpour outside, preventing much sunlight to enter to the soggy world beneath it. The other part was that in the night, one of Rose's eyes had swollen shut. She reached up to touch it, but recoiled at the pain.

"Rose?"

She swung her head around so that her one good eye could see the man who was addressing her.

_Norrington._

"Leave me alone, miscreant," she hissed. She turned her head away, dismissing him.

He stood taller. "You are still my prisoner and you shall hear what I have to say."

She snorted, head in her hands. "I believe I am prisoner under His Majesty the King, Admiral."

"Will you kindly stop this charade and come here?" His voice was lowered and urgent, and got her attention. Skeptically, she limped toward the cell door where he stood on the other side. She grasped the iron casually and sardonically. "What is it, _pirate?"_ she spat.

"Stop that," he ordered.

"Why should I? You are as much of a lying, deceitful knave as the rest of us, yet somehow you've evaded the hangman's noose. How is that, _pirate?_ Is it because you deal in trading away other people's hearts? Jones’s...mine... _"_

He blinked a few times, then proceeded, changing the subject. "I'm leaving today—"

"And you wished to say goodbye to your ‘gypsy lover?’ I appreciate the gesture but I—"

She yelped when he lunged at her. He did not strike her, however. Instead, he reached his hands around hers, which clung to the iron bars. He gripped firmly, and looked straight into her eyes. His gaze leapt from eye to eye, as though his were searching for something hidden beneath hers, or perhaps trying to send some nonverbal message. For some time, they stayed like this, and Rose was completely on edge, searching to find some meaning by this action.

What she didn’t know was the importance of that moment for James. When he looked at her, even though he could only see into the one eye of hers that wasn’t swollen shut, he saw in her the same downturned eyes as her father. Her father’s eyes had haunted him since the day he, at the time only a small boy, slipped into the frothy depths of the Caribbean, crying out for help against the crashing waves. The only help that came was the owner of those dark eyes, who delivered him back into the care of the half-drowned boy’s father. But care was there none, for the cold-hearted man weighed his son’s life against a code of honor, and alas found the boy expendable. The boy had been rescued by the enemy, and he was no longer worthy of his father’s approval, though he would chase it for the rest of his life.

His father had dismissed him, leaving the boy alone and humiliated on deck. Crestfallen and freezing, he looked to the ship of his rescuer, which was rapidly fleeing the scene. His eyes met a similar pair that did not belong to his rescuer, but to a boy not much older than himself. This boy had kohl-rimmed eyes and black tousled hair that was confined with a red bandana. His eyes radiated sympathy at the boy, but the boy only sneered back at him. The boy’s heart grew black to this young pirate and all his kind.

The same eyes of the rescuer and his sympathetic son looked at the boy now, though this time they belonged to a woman, and the boy was now a man. It had become instinct for him to hate these eyes, be it father or son, but no matter how hard he tried, James could not bring himself to hate the daughter.

At last, he broke the silent tension by saying softly, "You need to keep up your strength. I've brought food."

She recoiled, pulling her hands out from under his. "I don't need your help!"

He stood straighter. "I think you'll find the bread in your best interest."

"Leave me alone!" Rose cried, standing back. He said nothing, nor moved. "Don't you have a pirate fortress to raid?”

“Indeed,” he said stoically. “I am going to a place that you cannot go.”

Rose sneered, “And that gives you some sick pleasure, does it?”

James glanced over his shoulder towards the stairs, where an armed officer stood guard, then looked back, once more keeping his voice low. “You _cannot_ go,” he repeated.

Rose was bewildered by this strange utterance. Of course she couldn’t go! She was to be hanged the next morning! What was he saying?

He moved back to where he had a plate of food prepared. He grabbed the bread, leaned close to the bar, reaching his hand through one of the squares. His outstretched hand held the bread out to her. "Take it." She didn't move. "Please!"

And finally, she did take it, however hesitantly. His hand brushed hers as they made the exchange, and his hand lingered there as he gave her a pointed look. He weaved his arm back through the bars, and gave her a final nod.

“Farewell, Miss Hexfury,” was all he said. And he was gone.

She watched him go, followed by the guard that had accompanied him inside the cellblock. She then sat back down where she had been resting before she had been interrupted. True, she was hungry, but the entire exchange had put her off her appetite. She held the bread roll in her hands, and looked down at it.

Obviously, James was trying to tell her something. As Rose no longer trusted him, she did not expect him to be on her side in the slightest. Her first thought was poison. Maybe he had taken pity on her to give her a fast, painless death. Maybe, in this case, the bread _was_ in her best interest.

Although...

She rolled around the bread in her hands, and found a small incision in the side. She tore it apart, revealing a small key, with a note that read:

> _Leave only after you see my ship clear the harbour. Consider this a promise fulfilled._
> 
> _-James_

Believe it or not, Rose still has that note, as well as the key. I've seen them myself. The key she wears on a strip of leather around her neck while the note is rolled into a vial that she keeps tied to her belt. She says she keeps then because of the weight of its importance to her. "Someone had my safety at the forefront of their mind, and in a time of such loneliness and confusion, it was at least good to be worried about," she says.

At the time, Rose was confused and uncertain about James's intentions in allowing her the power to be free, but she had little time to ponder that at that moment. She was not going to die there, nor did she want to anymore.

She had to help her people.

She had to beat Beckett, James, and Jones to Shipwreck Cove.

She did as she was told, and waited several hours for James’s ship to be loaded and sail out of the harbor. As soon as it was out of sight, however, she dropped the roll and ran to the door. A guard was just outside the main door, so she could unlock herself without being noticed. She slid the key in and freed herself without effort.

Noiselessly, she ran up the stairs and approached the door, which opened outward. If the guard was doing his job correctly, he would be stationed directly in front of it. She positioned her hand over the handle, and silently counted down.

_3...2....1...NOW!_

She gave the push all her might, and she felt the door come into contact with a body and slam it into the opposite wall. She ran out, looking back to ensure that she had knocked the guard unconscious. Rose nearly let out a whoop of joy when she realized that it was Richards who she had knocked out! She dared not dally too much in her state of elation, however, so she took off across the courtyard.

There would be no hangings today, as it was Sunday. Therefore, she was clear from danger in the square as long as she raced across the cobblestone at top speed. She heard the sound of aggravated voices coming down the corridor after her, which forced her to run faster still, out of the stony prison and down to the docks.

As she ran, her mind raced with all the things James had said to her. _I’m going to a place you cannot go. You_ cannot _go._

She slowed her pace when she realized what he was trying to say. He was telling her subtlety to go anywhere but Shipwreck Cove, as it wouldn’t be long before they found its location now that they had gotten the name of the fortress from her. He was trying to keep her safe from the inevitable raid on the fortress and the slaughter of thousands of her kind.   
  
_Apologies, Norrington,_ she thought, quickening the pace of her run towards the docks once more. She knew in that moment that the only way for her to save the lives of her people was to undo the damage she had already done.

She was off to Shipwreck Cove.


	13. Away

Rose ran as fast as her legs would carry her, rushing down the hill to small strip of beach that stretched the length of the harbor beneath the docks. She must have been quite the sight in her tattered and worn garments from Singapore, so she mostly kept to the shadows, pausing now and then to let the occasional passerby meander past her before proceeding. Halfway through the docks, she suddenly turned the opposite direction and rushed to the east side of the island. _Will's blacksmith shop._ If she was to gain passage aboard a ship of any sort, she would need protection. The blacksmith shop where Will took her and Ben before he rescued Jack would be the perfect place to restock.

She retraced the path she thought they had taken. It lead her to a dead end. She backed up and took another route. After some time of wandering hopelessly lost about the town, she finally saw the sign of the shop in the distance. She listened for any sound of movement behind the door, and when she found none, shouldered the door in and grabbed the nearest sword she could find.

The place had fallen to ruin since Will's departure, and the unmistakeable scent of brandy was stagnant the air. No inhabitant was present that she could find, however. Will's old employer must have been out to Church today, probably to seek recompense for his alcoholism. She searched the quarters with haste, finding a sheath and a sword sharper than the dull one she first grabbed, as well as a flintlock pistol. She found enough bullets and powder to last her, at most, a day. Regardless, it would do for what she needed at that moment.

Rose raced back to the docks as quick as she could. She spotted a small merchant cruiser nearby. _Perfect_. She slowed her pace and walked confidently, pistol cocked, toward the solitary inhabitant of the vessel.

When he looked up, he immediately dropped his work and raised his hands over his head in submission. "Whoa there, I don't be askin' fer no trouble now!”

“And trouble will not find you if you step away from the boat,” Rose said warningly. He quickly obliged, trembling. Keeping her focus on the man, she still had the pistol pointed at him as they traded places; him on land and her inside the boat casting off towards the open sea. She only let her aim fall once she knew she was safe and out of range. She unfurled the small sail and kept to the coast for a time until she knew she would be out of immediate sight of the fort. Then, she steered the ship out into the open ocean. She then took the time to go through the stolen boat’s contents and see what she had pirated. Her heart fell when she found only a few pieces of hardtack, five bottles of rum and no compass. She didn’t exactly know the way, and these supplies were not going to last her any prolonged amount of time. She wouldn’t be able to navigate by starlight on account of her night blindness…so Rose had to rely on the position of the sun alone. She steered the boat southward, and hoped with all her might that that was the proper direction of Shipwreck Cove.

* * *

Though I’ve asked her again and again, Rose can't remember how long she was there. With her only form of drink being rum, many of her memories are blurry, and she can’t recall just how long she was adrift. All she can remember was that it was not going well. She would spend long nights alone in total darkness, starting at every slight noise or creak of the boat that would sound. Then, she would blink and all of a sudden sunlight would be burning her eyes. She would have fallen asleep, having lost control of the boat’s direction and being cast off god knows where. The afternoons would get so hot that sometimes all she would be able to do was lie down, using torn bits of her skirt as a shield from the harsh light. Sometimes, it was so inescapable, that she would simply lie down, letting the heat surround her and the let the sweat drip down her face. 

It was on one of these excruciatingly hot afternoons that Rose felt something beat against her face while she had her eyes closed. She instantly sat up and recoiled from it, uncertain of what had just happened. She realized that instead of the blaring sun, everything seemed slightly darker. That’s when she looked up and saw that she had sailed right into the shadow of a massive vessel, and more importantly, it was not alone. She had sailed right into an entire _fleet_ of ships.

“Oh god,” Rose exclaimed, praying that it wasn’t Company vessels that would lead her right back to Port Royal.

That’s when Rose realized that the thing that had struck her was the end of a rope, for a man in the ship looming above her had slid down the length of the rope right into her boat, sword drawn and pointed right at her.

“Qui êtes-vous?” he barked.

 _French!_ Rose thought in elated joy! From his haggard appearance and language, Rose knew in an instant that these weren’t Company men, they were _pirates!_

It had been so long since she had spoken her native tongue, but she was keen to try it again. "Monsieur, est-ce votre bateau?"

"Oui! Je voyage sous Capitan Chevalle.”

 _Chevalle?_ If she wasn’t mistaken, this was the Pirate Lord of the Mediterranean Sea!

“Qui êtes-vous? Où venez-vous?” the man cried again.

"Où est votre capitan?" she asked.

"Dans ce navire!” he yelled.

Rose was fully alert now. "Parlay!" she announced triumphantly. Declaring “parlay,” according to the Pirate Code, meant that she could speak with the captain without any harm coming to her.

"Comment?" he asked.

"Je declare 'parlay,' à parler avec Capitan Chevalle."

He nodded in understanding."Bien sur, mademoiselle."

She abandoned the boat and climbed up the side of the ship, which was a beauty in and of itself. This, however, was not Chevalle’s ship, which was even _more_ grandiose and ornate. A gangplank was lowered between ships, and Rose crossed it to get escorted to Chevalle in his cabin.

Chevalle was a Pirate Lord, most obviously en route to Shipwreck Cove since the song has been sung. If Rose could secure passage to Ship with Chevalle through their meeting, all of her concerns would be settled. She had one chance. If Chevalle wasn't an understanding man, her voyage could end right then and there. Or, even worse, if she accidentally bungled her French that could spell her doom as well. Rose had no control over what was about to occur.

Once she had made in on deck, Rose found herself surrounded by the language. It was so familiar to her childhood, and certain words flooded her ears. _Who, girl, boat, where, who, who, who..._

"Dépechez-vous! Tout de suite!" her guide yelled. "Allez, mademoiselle!" he cried back to her. She shouldered past the crew, obediently complying with his demand to follow him. They entered a dark corridor, and thankfully the candlesticks on the wall provided enough light so that her eyes could still make out shapes ahead of her.

The man suddenly stopped, causing Rose to nearly careen into him. He ushered her into a nearby room pooled in light. It was large and lofty, much larger than the _Pearl's_ captain's quarters, although from the looks of it, this vessel seemed to be generally smaller than the _Pearl_. Rose gazed over the fineries within. Tapestries, silks, tea sets, silver trays, and a chandelier. _Yes,_ Rose thought, _Jack would envy a room such as this. He would even sacrifice his ship's size if it meant larger quarters for himself._

The sailor had rushed into the room after her and darted to a chair that sat at the far end of the room with its back to her. He quietly conversed with the chair for a few moments until he motioned back to Rose. The chair's inhabitant stood and revealed an elaborate powdered wig, that seemed to be lacking a bit of maintenance. When he turned, Rose knew at once that he was Chevalle.

He raised revealing a pencil-thin mustache, a powdered face and a judgmental sneer. “Parlez-vous francaise?” he quipped skeptically.

Rose actually found herself smiling at this. “Oui!” she replied.

“Vous avez invoqué le droit de ‘parlay,’ c’est vrai?” said he, ensuring that she had indeed invoked the right of parlay to speak directly to him.

“Oui, capitaine.”

He stood and took her hand, bowing. “Je m’appelle Chevalle,” he said. “Et vous?”

Rose fell into a bow herself. “Rose Hexfury, majesté.”

Chevalle gave a brief nod. “Alors, parlez!” he demanded her to speak her purpose there. “Que faites-vous ici? Vous avez été retrouvé à la dérive dans un bateau, oui?”

“Yes, I- I mean, oui, mon capitaine.” Rose replied, confirming his question that she was found adrift in a boat. “J’ai besoin votre aide. Je dois aller à Shipwreck Cove. C’est là que vous naviguez, oui?” If this was indeed Chevalle and his fleet from the Mediterranean, they undoubtedly were heading straight to Shipwreck Cove. She needed his help to get to there.

“Peut-être…” he replied mysteriously, clearly distrustful of her. “Êtes-vous un espion? Comment pouvons-nous vous faire confiance?”

 _How can we trust you?_ Of course Chavalle thought she was a spy—why wouldn’t he? Pirates didn’t just float adrift in the middle of the Caribbean Sea! Especially weaponless women. The enemy could be waiting to pounce at any moment. Rose had no choice but to once again reveal what was once her biggest secret; her parentage.

“Je suis la fille de—“ Rose stopped at this. Even though it had been years since she had spoken French and she was communicating fine, she needed to prove she wasn’t _just_ French. “Anglais s'il vous plait?”

Chevalle gave a great sigh, but ultimately gave her a dismissive wave to go ahead.

“Captain,” she began, “It is in your best interest that you take me to Shipwreck Cove.”

“This is very presumptuous of you,” he said with a scowl. “Why don’t I just set you back in your little bateau and you sail back to whoever sent you here?”

“I come alone, I promise,” she pleaded. “I must be delivered, _unharmed_ to Shipwreck Cove. Your fate and the fate of pirate-kind depends upon it.”

“Pourquoi?”

“I am the daughter of Captain Teague, monsieur.” To this Chevalle only smirked, clearly unconvinced. “It’s true, monsieur!” she insisted. She tried to think of a way to secure her place onboard, and when it hit her, she spoke it aloud without a second thought. “You see my appearance, non?” she said, motioning to the tatters of her dress. “I was captured and set adrift in that boat. My father has put out a reward for my safe return. _The Keeper of the Pirate Code_ has put out a reward for me! Do this, and you will benefit!”

Chevalle still looked uncertain, but the sound of a reward was too good to pass up. She was fed and the men were able to scare up a pair of trousers that fit her poorly and a shirt that she was able to tear and tie up to fit her better, and she very gratefully was finally able to abandon her disgusting garments from Singapore. The men clearly expected her to sit back and stay on as a passenger, but Rose had other ideas. She longed to steer on the wheel once more like she used to do on the _Pearl,_ and even on Captain Frees’s ship, but this new crew was still very wary of her, and with good reason. She instead made use with the rigging and sail repairs.

She was given a hammock below deck, but didn’t trust anyone down there enough to actually take it. She instead would sit up all night on deck. She got little if any sleep those nights. It wasn't that the sea was unruly, nor was it her typical nightmares. She just couldn’t stop her restless mind from wondering what she would say to her father when she found him. What would he say in response? Would he say anything at all, or simply dismiss her as he did all those years ago? Was it even worth it to approach him, or should she just try to make her warning known without him?

All of these thoughts raced through her mind until they began all chattering at once and she had to stop thinking altogether. For a long time, she thought about nothing at all. Then, the quiet of the night shift ended and eager chatter started. A land mass had appeared in the darkness. This had to be Shipwreck Cove. Activity began though it wasn't yet dawn. Rose kept to herself in her spot on the deck, and waited until enough sunlight rendered her vision useful once more, then she watched as land grew nearer. What was once a speckled rock now had more definition. The ship turned to starboard, and they circled the island for some time until Rose saw a cavern. The ship slowly turned and entered into this break, which revealed itself to be an opening to a hidden interior, the silent and steadfast guard of yet another island, though this one was manmade.

And what a manmade marvel it was. Like a giant tree adorned with cooling embers, the fortress was illuminated throughout with hundreds of lanterns that flickered and danced with every gust of wind. The structure, if one even dare call it a structure, for there was nothing "structured" about it, stood about a league high, and was constructed entirely of broken ship components that had stacked up over the years. "Chaos" is a fitting word. Were it not for a haphazard dock, Rose would have never seen how it was possible to enter the facility at all, let alone utilize rooms within.

Perhaps even more impressive than this fortress was the amount of pirate ships that had docked in the harbor surrounding the u-shaped island mass. There were over a hundred vessels, some as big as the _Pearl_ , many much smaller. How many pirates had arrived already, and more importantly, how many were still to come? Rose searched the harbor desperately in the darkness for either the _Pearl_ or any ship appearing to be originating from Singapore, but she only had access to the sight of only half of the vessels as the fortress blocked her view the rest. She had to settle for trying to find her crew amongst the thousands of pirates inside. Every moment waiting to learn of their survival was agonizing.

The sun was well up by the time they found an adequate place to dock. Rose was among the passengers, supplies, and captain in the first long boat that worked itself to the East dock. With every meter they rowed closer, her anticipation increased, so much so, she almost leapt out of the boat on her own. She _would_ have too, were it not for the fact that Chevalle was right at her side, ready to scale the fortress to deliver her to her father.

As soon as she entered Shipwreck Cove, Rose found herself surrounded on all sides by people. Male, female, children, animals...they had taken up camp inside the facility on its base level. All of them— Arabs, Turks, Englishman, Irishmen, African, Indian. The chatter of contrasting languages was overbearing. The scent was overbearing. The sight of it all was...overbearing. Her senses were overwhelmed as she frantically scanned the crowd for a familiar face, but a familiar face found her none. Finally, out of the corner of her eye, she spied a young man scaling the side of a jagged and unorthodoxly angled wall via a rope ladder and disappear into the heavens through what had once been a crow's nest.

Ah! So there were several floors to be managed. As she would later come to discover, the crews of all vessels, of Pirate Lords or otherwise, could inhabit the town of Shipwreck that Rose was so familiar with or these lower floors of the structure. The third floor, the smallest and most fragile of the levels, held a large chamber that was reserved only for the reassembling of the Brethren. Rose discovered this because she and Chevalle’s main posse climbed the rope ladders and ascended the crooked and broken stairs. They made their way up the staircase and spilled into the Pirate Lords’ meeting room, which was entirely empty, or so Rose initially thought. Four great tables constructed of different varieties of oak were at the center, some in better condition than others, but they stretched at least the length of six horses when pushed together. A few paces in front of where they stood was a large globe that was nicked and porous. This was the globe that Jack had told her of, where the Pirate Lords stabbed their swords into the wood before each court's convening. Rose spun the globe to where the Caribbean was located and traced the sharp pierces in the globe's exterior. Had Jack's sword made this mark? Would he ever have the chance to make his mark?

That’s when Rose stopped dead and she caught sight of a man who had been standing in the room unnoticed the whole time.

He wore a red coat, adorned with a black hat. His hair was long, and resembled Jack's. The kohl-rimmed eyes... this was her father.


	14. The Teague

“Your daughter, Captain,” Chevalle said, motioning to Rose with a flourish.

Rose just stared at Teague, wide-eyed in anticipation. Teague’s expression was unwavering and unreadable, though he eyed her up and down. She could feel that he was about to deny this, so she gave a small movement, slowly lifting her left hand which clutched the twin pendants he had once given both Jack’s and her mothers so many years ago.

She saw Teague recognize them, then look back at her with wide eyes. She raised a defiant eyebrow as if to say, _Go ahead. Deny me again. I dare you._

He sighed. “Aye,” he growled, looking to Chevalle. Chevalle only stared back at him expectantly.

Teague kept his gaze, uncertain of what to do next. Finally, he said, “Thank…you?”

Chevalle continued staring, arms crossed over his chest.

“Father,” Rose interjected, though the word felt uncomfortable on her tongue. “I was safely returned to you. Remember the reward you promised?”

She held her breath, waiting for his response. If he denied her claims, she could be killed right then and there. He looked at her, his eyes shooting daggers at her. After a silence that felt like it lasted for years, Teague finally conceded. “Aye, indeed. I had nearly forgotten…” He began to look around himself, trying to come up with anything that could be used as payment. When he couldn’t find anything immediately, he then looked apologetically at Chevalle, only to find the French captain staring at his hand. Rose followed his gaze to find a find a large, red ruby ring reflecting light off of its sharply cut edges.

Teague noticed Chevalle’s longing gaze, then bitterly glared at Rose, whose eyes glimmered with a challenge as she merely shrugged. Begrudgingly, Teague pursed his lips and yanked his hand out of the ring. “Your payment, Captain,” he said in unenthusiastic monotone. “How can I ever thank you enough.”

Chevalle happily pocketed the ring. Satisfied with the trade, he then approached Teague. “I could not help but notice that I am not the last to arrive. I do not see Barbossa, Sao Feng, or—“

“No,” Teague cut him off before he could say Jack’s name. Rose winced at the mention of those particular three missing Pirate Lords; They were all in cahoots after the Singapore attack. They most likely still hadn’t returned from their journey to the Locker.

Teague continued, “We await them still, but the call is out, and I do not doubt their impending arrival.” He clapped him on the back and led him and out towards the entrance, his men quick to follow. “In the meantime, resupply your ship, take advantage of the town and the tavern. Rest assured, we convene in no more than a fortnight.”

Chevalle looked unconvinced. “But with so many ships here, the town will surely be overrun, its resources depleted, non?”

“Surely not, monsieur,” Teague scoffed. “We are a fortress—the Brethren has met three times before, we are ready for anything.”

 _Not anything,_ Rose thought gravely. But then she read Teague’s stiff posture and forced grin, she realized something; _He’s lying!_ she thought. The island was entirely unprepared to handle this many pirates just sitting in waiting for a missing third of their brethren that might never arrive. Resources were already scarce for pirates, and with thousands of crewman infiltrating the town, Rose shuddered at the thought of how little time Jack, Barbossa, and Sao Feng had to make an appearance, lest the Pirate Lords revolt and take their leave. They would all then be caught by the encroaching East India Trading Company upon making their escape, and Shipwreck Cove would be utterly defenseless.

Teague’s words must have finally convinced Chevalle, for he was descending the stairs with his crewmen to make their way back towards the base of the structure and back across the cove towards the town of Shipwreck, where they would most likely discover just how scarce their resources were.

Once they were out of sight, Rose suppressed her trepidation at talking with this mysterious figure she never really knew, and remembered the task at hand; She had to tell Teague about the dangers that lie ahead for the pirates. She stepped forward to speak with him. Just then, however, he spun around to face her.

“You owe me a ring,” he stated, voice level.

Rose scoffed. “Consider it payment for a lifetime of neglect.”

Teague held up his hand to stop her. “Hold on a moment, now—“

Rose was quicker, however. “No, I’m not here for that. What’s past is past. I come for more important matters.” Without a second thought, Rose let it all spill out of her mouth. “The three Pirate Lords we await will most likely never come, at least not in a timely manner. Jack is dead. Barbossa has gone to retrieve him from Davy Jones’s Locker.”

Teague shook his head. “Wait, what are you—“

Rose continued as though nothing had changed. “He’s in cahoots with Sao Feng. It’s safe to assume that the three are together and have been detained in the Locker, if not dead altogether. We must convene without them.”

“We cannot—“

“The East India Trading Company knows the name of Shipwreck Cove. It won’t be long before they know our location, if they don’t know it already.”

“How—“

“I say you rally the Lords we have here, we take the ships and we fortify Shipwreck Cove’s defenses. The reef should keep us safe from enemy ships unaware of it. It’s the best chance we have.”

“HOLD ON!” Teague roared. “Good lord, girl! You show up out of the blue, report to me that my son is dead, order me to break the sacred Pirate Code, the one _I_ manage and uphold…and even cost me a priceless ring, all in a manner of sheer minutes! Just a moment, please!”

“We don’t _have_ a moment!” she protested. “We’ve already wasted so much time, and so many lives have been lost. Every moment we stand bickering over what action to take is another action lost. The enemy gains _that_ much ground over us! We must take the defensive!”

Teague laughed in disbelief. “You seem to think I hold some authority over the Brethren.”

Rose only blinked. “Are you _not_ the Keeper of the Code?”

“ _Only!_ ” he replied. “That is my duty alone. I hold no power to convene them, let alone command them into battle! And even if I did, that would be _breaking_ the Code I keep!”

Rose furrowed her brow. “I’m not sure you realize how drastic of a situation we’re in; The East India Trading Company has command over Jones. A… _fiend…_ stole his heart and returned it to Beckett, their commander. They have the most powerful ship in the world at their beck and call, but we have numbers on our side!”

“No, we don’t,” her father replied gravely. “How do you know all of this anyway? About the Company, about Sao Feng and…and Jack?” He took a moment, reflecting on this unexpected news of his son’s death. “Why aren’t you _with_ Barbossa if you know of his rescue?”

“Does it matter?” Rose asked. “I come here to warn you. Take what I’m telling you and act on it.”

“‘Does it _matter?’_ ” Teague pointed at her hand which still clutched the pendants. “Are you not my daughter? Did I not just pay a reward for your return _because_ you are my daughter?”

“Because I _made_ you pay a reward?” she reminded him. “True, I am your daughter but that holds no merit now—the time for that has passed, and any residual bitterness is inconsequential now. We must ally ourselves for the good of those men out there!” She pointed out towards the rest of the island. “I have been to Port Royal, I escaped the hangman’s noose, and I have seen and heard the executions. Our relation is superfluous now. I need _your_ help to fight this injustice.”

Teague took this all in, then shook his head. He went over to the large meeting table and pulled out one of the many chairs surrounding it and sat down. He stayed there for awhile, head in one of his hands, still looking at her. She remained standing, wringing her hands in anticipation.

"You look like her, you know. Anna…” he finally said. Rose didn't know what to say, or even what to think, so for a time, there was nothing to be said. He finally decided on, "I knew this day would come. You would try to find me. The circumstances are a bit unexpected. And Jack…” his eyes grew distant in thought, but then he shook himself out of it. “He’ll be fine. He’s a clever lad, he’s made it out of worse.” He then looked back at Rose. “Jones finally caught up with him, aye?”

She nodded, taking a seat nearby.

“He stayed with you, then?” he asked. “After you left my ship?”

Rose nodded briefly. “More or less.”

“And?” he prodded her for more details. “Where have you been? How did you get here?”

She instantly grew cold again. “It would take too long to explain,” she quipped. “Maybe you shouldn’t have dismissed me nearly two decades ago.”

"Now wait a moment," he began to protest.

“‘A gypsy changeling,’ I think you called me? Isn’t that right?” she spat.

Teague cringed at the memory. “Jack didn’t know. About Anna. And I…I knew you existed. I didn’t want to face that truth. It was hard enough raising a son. I couldn't take on a daughter as well.”

“ _Because_ I was a daughter?” she hissed.

“It wouldn't have made a difference either way.”

Rose snorted. “Ah. It’s my blood then, is it?”

Teague leaned forward in his chair, eyes aflame in anger. “You were a product of a lapse in judgement, nothing more.”

Rose felt a deep pang in her chest at these words as the truth set in. Teague could see how these words affected her, and he gently tried to back out of them. “…as were much of my actions; a lapse in judgement. I should not have dismissed you as my daughter. I should not have driven Jack off. And Anna…there’s much regret there.”

Rose just stared at the ground. “As I said; What’s past is past. We must look ahead to the future. We’re in very real danger, and we need to _fight._ ”

Teague nodded. “They know of Shipwreck Cove?”

“Aye.”

“But how?”

Rose held back the truth. The last thing she needed was more judgement from this man. “It doesn’t matter! With every second wasted, they grow ever nearer. I came to warn you, that is all. We must be on alert and build up our defenses.”

Teague stood, and began to walk away from her towards the far rear wall. “I can’t,” he said simply.

Rose’s stomach burned in rage. She leapt to her feet and quickly followed along behind her father. “You _can’t_ or you won’t?”

He walked up a small flight of haphazardly crooked steps, and pried open a door, disappearing into the darkness. Even though it meant Rose losing her sight, she was so angry that he was avoiding her requests for help that she marched in right after him. “TEAGUE!” she cried.

“I _can’t,”_ his voice pierced through the dark. Rose jumped when she heard what sounded like a large book was tossed onto a wooden table. She then grew very confused as she heard a dog bark and what sounded like jingling keys. It then sounded like Teague unlocked the book and opened the cover. “I am bound by the Code,” he said.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Aren’t they more like ‘guidelines?’ What if I find a loophole?”

“If you _can,_ then I commend you. Be my guest.”

Rose nodded, energized by the challenge. “Light enough candles in here and I shall.”

* * *

“Ah!” Rose cried, now entering hour five of scouring over the Code in her father’s study. “How about this: ‘The convening of the Court must take place in the period of one day!’ It has been far longer than that! This isn’t a convening, then, this is something else entirely!”

Teague was pacing back and forth across the room. “Nope,” he said, shooting her down for what must have been the thirtieth time. “That’s the actual _meeting._ Convening can’t begin unless all nine Lords are present. Not a loophole.”

Rose groaned and persistently returned back to the book. “My vision’s starting to fade,” she reported. “I need more light.”

Teague grunted in acknowledgement and fetched some more. As he lit them around her, he asked, “So after you revived Barbossa, how did you get to Singapore?”

As she had been working, Teague had been asking various questions about the past twenty-six years of her life; the life he had largely missed. She had answered his questions absentmindedly, as the majority of her attention was primarily on her work.

“The remaining _Pearl_ crew, Tia and Barbossa sailed under the flag of Captain Frees. We bargained with him to sack a Company ship that would take us around Cape Horn.”

“And then at Singapore? For Sao Feng’s charts, eh?”

“Aye, we planned it all out. The Company caught up with us, however. That’s where I got separated. They made off with Sao Feng, and I was taken back to Port Royal.”

“That’s where you saw the executions?”

“Aye.”

“And how did you make it out?”

Rose deflected from this topic again. “I managed to escape. That’s all. I met up with Chevalle, and now I’m here.” She turned a page and cried out in triumph. “Ah ha! Just as I thought! This Code says _nothing_ about what should happen if a Pirate Lord dies without passing on their piece of eight!”

Teague furrowed his brow. “And?”

“ _And…_ What happens should a Pirate Lord die and no one knows of it? Then it comes time for the Brethren Court to meet and it’s only _then_ that the others discover what has happened? Wouldn’t that render that Pirate Lord and their domain obsolete?”

“Why are Sao Feng, Barbossa, and Jack not here in the first place?” Teague replied evenly. “That very reason—it’s not a possibility. They must return at all costs, even from the dead.”

“But what if Tia Dalma couldn’t retrieve the body to revive it, like Barbossa? Or one couldn’t travel to the Locker, like what the _Pearl_ is doing for Jack? What then? There _should_ be a loophole in that case! Can we _please_ write an amendment?”

Teague rolled his eyes, “For the thousandth time, no! This is the way the Code was written, and that’s that!”

Rose sighed and slammed the back cover of the Code shut and sat back in her chair. She reached out and began to pet the unexplained gray dog Teague was keeping in his study, who kept the keys to the code in his mouth at all times.“Well, then I suppose we’re doomed then. Without a loophole we have to, what, just wait for the enemy to come and haul us all away to be hanged?”

Teague too sat down in a chair nearby, and his silence wasn't helping Rose’s nerves at all. After awhile, he finally asked, “And at what point in your story do you discover that the East India Trading Company has been informed of our location?”

“As far as I know,” she replied, her jaw tight, “They _don’t_ know our location. Only our name.”

“That makes all the difference,” he said gravely. “As soon as they know this place exists, it makes it all the easier to find us. Torture a few thousand convicted pirates until someone speaks, and there you have it.” He leaned closer to her. “So I ask again because it _does_ matter, how were they informed of our location?”

She finally looked up at him, knowing her demure expression had already given her away. “Me,” her voice squeaked.

To her surprise, Teague did not appear angry, but only asked frankly, “I thought as much from your blackened eye. They tortured it out of you.”

“Aye,” she murmured. “In a sense.”

“In a sense?”

“Their Admiral. Norrington… I…” she felt tears rush to her eyes, and she looked upwards to keep them from spilling over. “I was a bloody fool.”

“Norrington? Surely not Lawrence?”

She shook her head, jaw tight as she growled, “James.”

Teague’s face flushed in fury. “He hit you?”

“No!” she corrected. “He never hurt me…physically. He…”

“What?!”

“I fell for him like some lightheaded waif!” she shouted. “I let my guard down and he took advantage of that.”

He sighed, saying nothing. After a moment, he stood and gazed out of his window overlooking the cove for a long time.

Rose was left to ruminate in her pain and fury. “‘Just like her mother,’ I’m sure you’re thinking. We lose our heads when we lose our hearts.”

“No,” he briskly negated. “I wasn’t thinking that at all.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “Rather, I was thinking, ‘Just like his _father.’”_

“You knew his father?”

He snorted, looking back out towards the ocean. “And the boy. I saved him from drowning.” He then turned to her. “Wish I hadn’t now.”

Rose was shocked at the coincidence. “When was this?”

“Nearly…thirty years? Before Anna, I know. The boy couldn’t have been more than six. Shame. Would have been a fine lad were that cruel bastard Lawrence not his father.” He turned his gaze to his daughter’s face, as he said with kindness, “Though he must have had some redeeming qualities if he caught your eye.”

Though this was a rare moment of warmth from Teague, Rose recoiled in disgust. “It wasn’t real, none of it. I was sick and lonesome. He knew how to…get inside my head. And he did, and now look where we are. He currently commands the _Flying Dutchman_ , they surely have figured out our location by now, we’re three Pirate Lords short, and there’s nothing to be done but wait for our demise.”

“Do you know why the Brethren convenes?” Teague asked, suddenly changing the subject.

She stood to join him where she stood, arms crossed over her chest. “Aye, as far as I know,” she replied. “Davy Jones did it to bind the sea goddess Calypso to human form so that the sea could belong to man. All because she charged him to ferry souls to the other side and she broke his heart.”

Teague snorted. “Sure, that’s what Calypso would have told you. And while it’s largely true, it’s become so much more than that.” Rose blinked. _What Calypso would have told her?_ What did that mean? Teague continued his speech before she had a chance to question it, however. “It’s about camaraderie. It’s a unification of the _world._ No one else on this planet, not even the stronghold of the Trading Company in all it’s fearsome glory, has this sort of unity. And it lasts only a short time, then we return to swindling and killing one another again. But sing that song and we know _exactly_ who we are. Sing that song and we come together as one.

“That’s why it’s a pirate’s life for me; We are without a country. That’s the life we’ve chosen. We are beholden to no one but the seas we sail. We hold no allegiances but to her, our captains, our vessels, and ourselves. If not piracy, then what? Working under unfathomably horrible conditions for little payoff all in the name of ‘king and country?’ No. Not me. Not anyone here.

“That’s why we have chosen the lives we live, Rosie. It’s freedom. It’s lawlessness. And certainly, it’s dangerous and at times…violent. So violent. But I’d take that any day before I work for those who invade a land and take their people as slaves. I’d take that before I’d take… _anything._ ” He turned and looked back at his daughter. “The Brethren Court is freedom.”

Though she was moved by his words, Rose asked, “But that freedom was gained only by imprisoning another being, was it not? And…what did you mean ‘Calypso told you?’ Calypso hasn’t told me anything! I only know her servant, Tia Dalma!”

Teague blinked. “Is that what she told you? That she was her servant?”

Rose ran her hands through her hair. “She lied to me,” she whispered. “I _knew_ it was her. I asked her and she denied it.”

Her father sighed. “Makes sense that she would. The more people that know, the more danger she’s in.”

“I was her student,” she protested. “I wasn’t just ‘anyone.’”

“Would it have changed your opinion of her?”

“Well it certainly has now!” Rose took a sharp inhale. “How long has she been here?”

“Centuries.”

“And Jack knew?”

“Always. How else did you think he learned of the _Black Pearl_? It was Jones who raised her from the depths for him. It was Calypso who told him of Jones in the first place.”

Rose was incredulous. “Any more revelations you’d care to get out of the way, _Father_? ‘Rose, Norrington and I are old friends.’ “Rose, your bloody mentor is a BLOODY GODDESS!’” She pursed her lips, pulse racing. “How many other siblings do I have, Teague? Go ahead!”

Teague rolled his eyes. “Just Jack, as far as I know. But I wouldn’t be in shock if more of you turn up to accuse me of negligence.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Rose scoffed in disgust as she turned to leave the room.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he called after her.

“First to that wretched tavern in town. If you’re not going to tell those pirates out there that they are merely waiting for their untimely deaths, then I shall!”

Teague raced to block her path. “Absolutely not!”

Rose sneered, “Look, while I would love to believe that Jack will be alive and well and in this very room tomorrow, we cannot wait on those chances alone. And you honestly intend to honor the Code above the lives of thousands of men and women?”

“And, what?” he retorted, “You think they’ll listen to _you_? What authority over them do you have?”

“If _you_ say—“

“I won’t say a thing!” he retorted. “I won’t cause widespread panic. We wait for Jack.”

Rose almost didn’t dare to speak the words for fear that they would come true, but she finally uttered, “And if Jack never comes?”

Teague took a forlorn moment to consider this, then settled on, “Improvisation.”

Rose closed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief of how similar he and Jack were. Grumbling in frustration, she retired back to her chair where the dog laid now, slumbering at its legs.

“What, is that all?” Teague asked.

“Until you come to your senses, yes,” she replied. “Which certainly won’t be happening tonight!”

Teague sighed, “Until morning, then.”

“I suppose,” she grumbled.

She listened as he settled himself in his armchair and let her blindness surround her as he extinguished the candles on his desk. Now settled into the darkness, she waited with her eyes shut for sleep to overtake her, but minutes passed all while she was still wide awake. Her stomach was churning with anxiety.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” Teague suddenly said in the darkness.

Rose furrowed her brow, uncertain what to make of this bizarre change of heart. It was unclear what he was sorry for, for he was in the wrong on so many fronts. Finally, she replied, “I don’t need the apology. Jack’s mother needs your apology for being unfaithful, yet she’s gone. My mother needs your apology for abandoning her, yet she’s gone. It’s too late for that.”

“No, not for me. I meant that I’m sorry about Norrington.”

She shifted uncomfortably. “Why would you be sorry for that? You weren’t the one to hurt me.”

“I have before,” he said. “And as I said, I met the lad when he was but a boy, but it was clear then that his nature is rather sensitive. Whoever you saw was whatever his father made him into, but he certainly isn’t heartless. Take it from someone who knows, Rosie,” he said in final thought. “He’s going to regret hurting you for the rest of his days.”


	15. Restoration

Nine long, fruitless days passed. During this time, Teague and Rose had gotten to know each other better, although their relationship was still strained. Rose wasn’t certain if she was ever going to have the sort of relationship she _wanted_ with her father, so she kept her expectations low. She treated him as nothing but an ally, and most of their conversations revolved around histories of the various Pirate Lords, naval politics, and showing her around both Shipwreck and the crooked, twisted architecture of the fortress. They only visited the town together once, then promptly turned back upon seeing that it had devolved into a cesspool of violence, drinking, and chaos. Resources were almost nonexistent by now, and so overpopulated was the island, that the six Pirate Lords in attendance and the most trusted members of their crew moved into the fortress, which made for very tight quarters below the Brethren’s main meeting place.

Rose continued her futile attempts at building a strategy to ward off the Company. But there was truly nothing to be done without Jack, Barbossa and Sao Feng. She wasn’t going to stop trying however, and every morning and night at sunrise and sundown, she would climb to the top of the highest peak on Shipwreck Island with Teague’s telescope. The action oddly reminded her of when she would seek out the _Pearl_ ’s black sails every morning and evening on Tortuga when she was but a girl. This time, however, her search was less about finding her future than it was preventing a terrible one from unfolding. She was terrified that she would find either the slimy, green, tattered sails of the _Dutchman_ or the pristine white sails of Company vessels encroaching upon them. Every time, thankfully, there was nothing at all remarkable, with the exception of the first morning, when Rose thought she saw the green flash of the sun on the horizon that her mother used to speak of. She figured that that one instance had been her mind playing tricks on her, however, and she breathed a sigh of relief each time she wouldn’t find an enemy sail on the horizon. On the tenth evening, Rose was about to set out to check the horizon with at sundown when she found her father standing at an opening in the wall overlooking the harbor below. She joined him at the crevasse, and followed his gaze. Her expression changed to horror at the sight of ships exiting the harbor.

"Oh no!" she cried. "They can't leave!"

"Oh but they can," he said in monotone. "It is entirely within their power."

"But the Brethren Court—"

"The Pirate Lords are still here. Those are some of the rogue ships who sought refuge here. No, the Pirate Lords are still down below. However resentfully and impatiently, but—"

He was cut off by the sound of gunshots. He rushed to the stairs and descended, and Rose was right on his heels.

They entered into a brawl unlike any Rose had ever seen, and she had seen _plenty_ of tavern brawls in her time. It appeared as though Mistress Ching's men were quarreling with Armand's, and somewhere, Jocard's men joined in the fight.

Rose plugged her ears as she watched her father pull out his flintlock and fire straight into the air. They all froze, staring at the two of them.

"Enough of that," her father said politely. His voice was not raised, nor carried any tone of upset or aggression.

Jocard himself bravely stepped forward. "Captain Teague! We demand to know at once the cause for the delay! We cannot wait much longer!"

A few noises in agreement spread throughout the crowd.

Teague was unwavering, and immediately answered, "Do you see this woman at my side?" Rose felt her stomach drop. _Don't put this on me, please._ "She is an affiliate of Captain Sparrow's and Barbossa's. She has reported to me that the final three pirate lords will arrive within the day."

_What? No I didn't!_

A French voice from somewhere in the mob called in response, "They have been away this long, how do we know that they are not leading the enemy to our gates?"

Teague answered immediately. Now Rose saw where Jack got his improvisational skills from. "Are you accusing Captain Sparrow of treachery? Gentlemen, you all are familiar with Jack. Is he really one to get into a bind such as that?"

More murmurs of agreement rang throughout the crowd.

"In the meantime," Mistress Ching's voice rang out, distinct and clear, "We are weary of this place. What if they do not arrive within the day?"

Teague replied firmly, "I assure you they will." _How could he assure that? It was impossible!_ "In the meantime, I welcome you to take your places at the grand table and prepare for the fourth Brethren Court."

Several "hoorah's" erupted through the crowd. Rose hadn't noticed that her father had turned to lead them upstairs. She quickly raced to catch up with him. He turned sharply back to her, saying, "We best go into the cabin." She looked over her shoulder. Wise choice, as the room was quickly filling with angry, hungry pirates who were just shooting at each other not minutes earlier.

Once she closed the door behind her, she cried, "What was that?"

"What?" he asked nonchalantly, and seating himself at his chair, he began to strum a nearby guitar.

"You know damn well what!" she said. "Telling them that Jack will be here within the day!" He just kept playing his guitar. Rose walked closer and raised her voice. "You don't know that they will be here! You don't even know if they are ALIVE!"

"I know one thing," he muttered. "If we didn't give them some form of hope, there would have been chaos."

"And chaos still persists! This buys us, what, mere _hours?_ Then what?"

He stopped strumming and looked up at her. "I don't know. We take life as it comes."

 _Just like Jack! Infuriating!_ She threw her hands up in exasperation and left the room, dodging the hundreds of waiting pirates at the grand table and descending the fortress she had now come to know so well. She made a beeline straight to the peak, as was her plan before this diversion.

Once there, she extended the telescope. She drew her gaze over the rapidly fleeing dozen or so ships, and sighed in disapproval. She then moved the scope down and took another glance around without use of a visual aid.

Something curious caught her eye this time. A dark speck was heading straight for them. She narrowed her eyes and raised the glass once again. When she saw it magnified through the scope, at first she didn’t react, though her heart felt like it had fallen straight into her stomach. She just stayed there, frozen in place until she was absolutely certain that her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

Then, she ran as fast as her legs would carry her back to the fortress. She pushed past wanderers in the narrow hallways, climbed winding stairs and ladders until she reached the meeting place. She then pushed through the Pirate Lords and their men and darted into Teague’s room.

“Convene the Court!” Rose she said breathlessly.

Teague looked alarmed. “What is it? What’s out there?”

“Convene the Court now!” she repeated.

“For the last time, you know I can’t do that, Rose!” he protested.

“You _can!_ ” she said, a wide smile growing across her face. “The _Black Pearl_ has returned!”

* * *

Rose shifted her weight uncomfortably between her feet. “What’s taking them so long?” she fretted. 

“Calm yourself,” Teague gruffly said, his hat tipped down over his eyes as he leaned casually against the doorframe to his quarters. “It takes awhile to maneuver the Cove.”

She gave a sharp, frustrated exhale through her nose. “It takes annoyingly long, that’s what.” Of course she was impatient—it had been months without her brother, and Rose was bursting at the seams to reunite with him. She knew he was back; There was no _Pearl_ without Jack. However, she also knew that this was to be a rigid reunion. She couldn’t race to embrace her brother—there were Pirate Lords present. So for right now, she had to struggle to keep her composure.

She knew he had arrived when the room went deathly silent. Her eyes lit up when she saw the men she thought she’d never see again come into the space. Barbossa entered first, inserting his cutlass into the globe, then tipping his hat to the Pirate Lords as he took his place at the head of the table. Surrounding him were Pintel, Ragetti, Gibbs, Cotton, and Marty. Barbossa appeared to have something…or _someone_ hovering behind him. Rose craned her neck to catch a better glimpse. Sure enough, it was Jack, appearing to be hiding from everyone and everything else in the room. Barbossa grew irritated and quickly spun around, revealing her half-brother to the room. With nowhere to hide now, Jack stood upright and gave a sheepish grin at his fellow Pirate Lords. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, and Rose watched as many of the Pirate Lords motioned to several of their crew members, all of which were very tall, domineering men. As if rehearsed, they all immediately made a beeline towards Jack and formed a very threatening-looking line to speak with him.

Rose was alarmed at this. “What’s happening?”

Teague gave a slight laugh. “What else? Debts. Jack’s famous for them.”

She rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I know. What does Jack owe the other Pirate Lords?”

“Well, let’s see…” Teague said, eyes wandering from around the table. “A share of Spanish treasure off of Hispaniola, three dozen barrels of rum, an entire fleet of galleons, and…a wife.” He gave a sidelong glance at Rose. “And that’s just what _I_ know about.”

She snorted. “Typical. Jack’s free from one debt and immediately wanders into several others.” She pushed up her sleeves and took a deep breath. “Well, I am owed a debt as well. I suppose I should get in line and wait my turn, shouldn’t I?”

Teague smiled. “Send your brother my regards,” he said.

Rose furrowed her brow. “Won’t you come as well?”

He shook his head. “Not unless I come up. You know as well as anyone how Jackie feels about me.”

“But that was then,” she protested. “It’s been years. _We’ve_ reconnected. What of you?”

Teague only motioned towards Jack with a slight nod of his head. “Go to him,” he insisted. “I’ll be here.”

Reluctantly, she left him, but as soon as she was off, it took every bit of her will to wait for the many debt collectors representing the Pirate Lords to finish their business with Jack. Finally, the last huge, terrifying brute of a man was appeased by some vague promises from Jack of “unending riches” for the man’s captain, and he stomped away, revealing Rose standing there, the last in line. Jack gave a large, toothy grin when he saw her, and Rose couldn’t believe her eyes at seeing her brother in the flesh once more, something she never believed was possible.

“I believe I am owed passage aboard your ship, Captain Sparrow,” she said with a smile.

Just as she expected, there was to be no embrace or overt expression of familial relation with Jack at that moment. He only walked closer to her and said with faux sternness, “Your absence aboard my vessel has been noted, Hexfury. I will _consider_ taking you back, given that it doesn’t happen again.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n,” she replied, laughing.

Barbossa peered around Jack’s shoulder at her. He looked rather impressed to see that she had made it to Shipwreck Cove in one piece. “So ya made it out of Singapore,” he growled.

Jack raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh, so she ’stayed behind in the bayou,’ did she?”

Barbossa must have lied, telling Jack that Rose had elected to stay behind in the bayou. If Jack knew that Rose had been left behind in Singapore, he would have insisted on going back, and Barbossa knew that there was no time for that.

“I did make it out, thank you,” she said to him. “And you all made it out of the Locker, I see.”

“Barely,” Barbossa huffed.

Despite his sass, Rose looked sincerely at him. “Thank you,” she said, knowing full well that Jack would have never returned were it not for him. Barbossa gave a small smile back to her in response.

Jack looked between them. “What’s this? Do I see old foes getting along?”

“Ask me again once the war is won,” Rose replied. She then opened her mouth to remark that the Court could now be convened, as all nine Pirate Lords were present, but suddenly something occurred to her. “Where’s Sao Feng?” she asked in alarm.

“We were separated,” Barbossa sneered.

Rose’s eyes flared in anger. “You were supposed to be together!” she yelled.

“Well, _that_ friendly moment’s over, I s’pose,” Jack remarked under his breath.

“Things…went awry,” explained Barbossa.

“And Will?” Rose asked. “Where’s he?”

“I state again: Things went awry.”

She sidestepped around Jack and spoke directly to Barbossa as she said sternly, “We don’t have the _time_ for things to go awry. I don’t think you understand just how dire our situation is!”

Barbossa glared at her. “Oh, I rather be thinkin’ I do.”

“Aye,” Jack interjected, poking Rose on the shoulder. “Nasty run in with the Company, love. Bloke by the name of Beckett. Horrible character who’s not fond of me.”

“Oh don’t I know it. Believe me, in our time apart, I encountered him too,” replied Rose.

Jack cocked his head to the side in confusion, though he looked thoroughly impressed with her. From her short hair to her confident, authoritative air, Rose had changed significantly since they had last seen each other. “We’ve got much catching up to do, sister.”

She grinned. “Aye… but once we’ve won this.” She looked back at Barbossa, stating firmly, “You must convene the Court, Sao Feng or no. I care not about whatever the Code says, this happens _now_.”

“Finally, yer speaking sense, girl!” Barbossa said with a yellow grin. “Worry not, that’s me plan.”

“Rose,” Jack said, motioning her to stand with him a bit further off. She walked with him a few paces off towards the globe with the swords. He lowered his voice so that their conversation would be inaudible over the chatter of the other pirates in the room. “It’s a bit sudden,” he said, “But I think you should head off towards the _Pearl_ right about now _.”_

Rose shook her head instantly. “Absolutely not, Jack. I have waited for this bloody meeting for too long—I’m going to be there when it happens.”

He held up a finger to pause her. “I understand that. But there’s a more pressing matter at hand. There’s prisoner in the brig you might want to speak with.”

Rose raised her eyebrows in interest, wondering who it could possibly be. Then it hit her—who wasn’t among them? Who was the reason why the Brethren Court existed in the first place? “Calypso,” she whispered.

Jack grimaced. “So you know about her, then.”

She pursed her lips. “Aye, and we’ll discuss you keeping _that_ gem of a secret from me at a later time. For now, why on Earth is she being kept in the brig?”

Jack motioned with his head towards where Barbossa stood.

“Why?” Rose asked again.

“Why else? His plan is to free her in the hopes that she takes down the Company on her own, saving us the trouble of the fight. Plus, he owes her for bringin’ him back.”

“So it’ll happen, then,” Rose reasoned.

“Not necessarily,” Jack said. “It’ll take the consent of the Pirate Lords, and I’ll be fightin’ tooth and nail against it.”

Rose was surprised at this. “But Jack, she’s been bound here against her will for centuries! She deserves her freedom! You of all people should empathize.”

“Oi, don’t jump all over me!” he said, hands raised in surrender. “I want ‘er free just as much as the next bloke…that isn’t Barbossa, that is. But who’s the _one_ person…” His voice trailed off on that thought, then he began it again. “Who’s the one _fish_ that she could side with against us?”

 _Davy Jones._ Rose needn't speak it aloud; She knew Jack spoke true. While she had never spoken to Tia about Jones, she knew how changeable and volatile her personality was. She could easily turn the tides against them. “Fine,” she conceded. “But immediately _after_ we best the Company, we’re setting her free, deal?”

“Cross my heart, love,” Jack swore.

She nodded, then began to walk backwards. “Good luck convincing that lot. They seem none too fond of you, brother!”

He grimaced again and nodded. “I’ll figure _something_ out. I always do!”

“I’ll be back!” she called over her shoulder, racing through the corridors downwards towards the sea. Funny, Jack had been back in her life for only a few minutes, yet necessity made it so that they had to leap right back into defending themselves from nefarious sources. It was like nothing at all had changed, even though Rose was _so_ glad that it had!

She crossed the last hallway down and out on the ground level of the Cove, then came face to face with a group of newcomers. “Oof” exclaimed Rose as she nearly collided with their leader. Then her jaw dropped. There, in full Singaporean dress, was Elizabeth Swann, leading a group of Singaporean pirates.

“Rose?” she asked, just as alarmed. “Is that really you?” She moved forward as if to embrace her, but stopped upon remembering their strained relationship. Rose was so shocked that she couldn’t find the right words to reply with, so they just stood for a moment in awkward silence. Elizabeth continued, “I saw the _Pearl_ in the harbor. Surely you’ve seen Jack…?”

“I have,” Rose said kindly. “Thank you for retrieving him.”

“Of course,” she said quietly.

Rose regarded her once more. “Are…are you with Sao Feng?”

“He’s dead,” Elizabeth reported. “He made me the Captain of the _Empress_ in his stead.” She looked behind her and motioned to her crew. “These are my men,” she said. “But I come bearing news that the East India Trading Company grows ever nearer. We just escaped them.” 

Rose was floored by the information that Elizabeth was now the Pirate Lord of Singapore, but she remained level-headed regarding talk of the Company’s approach. “Aye, I have been reporting the same, but the Lords seem unfazed. Maybe they’ll listen to a Pirate Lord. Go, the Court is convening shortly.”

“Aye. Come on, men!” she cried, motioning them in and up the fortress.

Rose moved to continue out into the darkness, unsure of how she was going to find her way to the _Pearl,_ when Elizabeth called back to her. “Rose!” When she turned back to her, she continued, “I’m sorry. Once again, for…everything.”

Rose smiled. “You’re all back now, that’s all that matters.” Then, a thought occurred to her. “Actually, there’s one last thing you can do to make it up to me.”

“Name it.”

“Can you spare a man to row me to the _Black Pearl?”_


	16. The Heir

Once aboard the _Black Pearl,_ Rose ran her hand along its familiar railing. She would never understand what drew Jack so much to this particular ship, but its mythology during her whole life made it synonymous with hope, and it was therefore home. So strange it was to have both it and Jack back when they should have been to the depths forever. But Rose wasn’t here to reminisce. She had to speak with Calypso.

She rushed beneath the deck and down into the brig. There were several lanterns below, but Rose carried another at eye level so that she could at least make out faint shapes. Upon fully entering into the brig, she saw her mentor, grasping the bars of her prison, talking to herself inaudibly.

Rose opened her mouth to speak, but no sound emerged. Finally, she squeaked out a timid, “Tia Dalma?”

“Rose!” she called in reply. Rose extended her arms and felt her way along the wall towards Tia’s voice. When she finally made it close enough that she could see Tia’s face, she hooked the lantern above them on the bars so that she could see her.

Rose grasped Tia’s hands through the bars. “I thought I would never see you again!” she exclaimed.

“Nor I! Id be a long journey, but witty Jack return to ya.”

“Aye,” Rose said, though a bittersweet tone was laced in her voice. She couldn’t pretend any longer—she had to confront Tia with the truth. She had to confront _Calypso_ with the truth. “I…I know about you. Calypso.”

She just raised her eyebrows and smiled, giving rose a challenging look. “And?” she asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Would id ‘ave made a difference? You be taught by a goddess of da tides. Id matters not.”

“I could have helped you,” Rose exclaimed. “I want you free as well!”

Calypso shook her head, repeating, “Id matters not. At dawn, I will be free.”

Rose felt an immense amount of apprehension at this. How could she reveal to this powerful being that in fact, the plan was to _not_ free her immediately? “Yes, you will be freed soon, I will make sure of it,” she finally decided upon.

“Ahh…” Calypso cooed. “Jack Sparrow, him already come to ya. Sayin’ id unwise ta free me, mm?”

“No,” Rose lied. “We’ve just…we’ve got so much to worry about, and I—”

“Worry aboud dis, then!” she shouted, causing Rose to start. “Jack send you here to turn my favor to da Court? Ya too late—Davy Jones be just he-ere moments ago.”

Rose looked around the brig in alarm. “Jones? Here?”

“Aye. N’ what did da Court do me? Bound me to dis?” she cried, motioning to her body. “Forever? Whad mercy have dey shown me?”

Rose was torn; Yes, the Court had been unbelievably cruel to Calypso, but it was _Jones_ who led that Court! These were an entirely new generation of unaffiliated pirates who were going extinct beneath the East India Trading Company. “Jack is among them, Calypso,” Rose tried to reason. “And me. Think of _me!_ We’ll be sailing the seas you turn against us if that is your ultimate decision! We’re at _your_ mercy.”

Calypso’s eyes flared in fury, though she grinned at the power she now realized that she had. “And whad do I owe you?”

That sentence chilled Rose to her core. _What do I owe you?_ Nothing. Calypso had taken care of Rose entirely on her own as she grew up. Calypso had been prisoner to Jack and Barbossa’s whims. Calypso had had no say over her own life. Calypso had been rebuffed by Rose once she decided to blame her for Jack’s death. Calypso owed neither Rose nor the pirates a single thing. She could do whatever she pleased.

All that Rose could do now was try one last time to right her wrongs of the past. “You’re wrong,” she finally said, voice trembling. “Jack didn’t send me to try to sway your favor. He sent me to say goodbye. If you and Barbossa have your way and you _are_ freed…we’ll never see each other again. You go back to the Locker, don’t you?”

Calypso nodded. “I do.”

“So… _whatever_ be our futures, I wanted to bid you farewell.” Once this realization hit Rose, it hit her incredibly hard; Tia Dalma was already gone in her mind. But now every bit of her _was_ going to go away forever.

“Dis not be de end,” Calypso said, reaching through the bars to touch Rose’s shoulder. “We be meetin’ again someday soon, I promise.”

Rose said quietly, “I never thanked you for everything you’ve done for me. I cannot thank you enough.”

Calypso gave a sad smile and sighed, searching Rose’s eyes. Then, earnestly, she said, “Tomorrow be a dark, dark day. Many lives lost, many hearts be broken. Two paths I can take—one for de Brethren Court, one for Davy Jones. I know nod which be da path I take yet, maybe neither. But you _must not_ be on dis ship. Ya hear?”

“On the _Pearl?”_ Rose asked.

“Aye, ya must be far away, mmm?”

Rose shook her head. “I’m not leaving Jack again, Tia. I’m sorry.”

“Don’d obey for Tia Dalma, ya listen to Calypso now!” she corrected. “Ya stay away, yes?”

Rose sighed in exasperation, but she knew that she wouldn’t let this go unless she agreed. “Alright,” Rose lied.

Breathily, Calypso then weaved her arm back through the bar and unhooked her silver crab locket from her neck. “N’ dis be for you,” she said, extending it out to her. “My love have de udder, but it not matter after tomorrow.”

Rose protested, “But I can’t accept that, Tia.”

“Ya must! Ya be a part of my plan! Please, Rose!” she pleaded.

Rose furrowed her brow. “Your ‘plan?’ What…what do you-“

“Please! Will ya accept?” Calypso’s eyes were desperate, and Rose finally agreed, taking the locket. It was a beautiful object that Rose was always fascinated by, but it felt odd taking it from her mentor. And so final…Rose disliked the feeling. Still, she hooked it around her neck.

“Calypso, I—“ Suddenly, creaks in the floorboards interrupted her. The Court must have already completed their meeting. She looked to Calypso in alarm.

“Go,” she said. “Ya know da wrath if Barbossa discovers you he-ere.”

“Thank you,” Rose said again sincerely.

Calypso smiled. “Dere be a touch of destiny about you, Rose Hexfury,” she cooed. “Dere always has been.”

Rose dared not stay a moment longer, lest she burst into tears at this last farewell. She grabbed her lantern and rushed upstairs, opening out into the darkness of the night.

“Rose!” she heard Gibbs exclaim as he passed by her. “Saw ya made it back! Glad to have ya aboard once more, lass!”

She held up her lantern close by her eyes to see the shapes of the crew members passing by her. “Glad to _be_ aboard, Gibbs!” she said with a grin. “Tell me, what became of the Brethren Court? What was decided?”

“Ya missed quite a spectacle, lass!” he said excitedly. “Elizabeth Swann arrived, having taken Sao Feng’s place as Pirate Lord. Then, with Jack’s help, she was voted the Pirate King!”

Rose was taken aback. “Elizabeth?” Rose had scoured for _hours_ over the Pirate Code, so she knew that a King could only be declared by a vote of the Pirate Lords, which was redundant, as each Lord only ever voted for themselves. Strange that Jack would give up a vote for himself in support of Elizabeth… Unless they both supported the same outcome; Fighting Jones and the Company, and keeping Calypso contained until at least after the war had subsided.

“What’s the decision, then?” Rose asked.

“We set out at dawn! The Company is expected to be here by then!” Gibbs exclaimed.  
  
“So, we rest and gear up until then!”

“And where’s Jack now?”

Gibbs then grew rather close to Rose, voice low, “Actually, he’s er…with yer father.”

 _So Jack had found Teague after all…_ Rose nodded, then moved towards the starboard side of the ship. “I need to go ashore, then,” she said, right before running straight into Jack.

“Why would _that_ be?” he asked.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “What happened? I thought you were with Teague!”

“And I thought you were with Tia Dalma,” Jack countered.

“I was,” she said, holding up the locket. “I’ve got a new trinket.” 

“Me too!” Jack exclaimed, lifting up a shrunken head and holding it mere inches from her nose so that she could clearly make it out by the light of her lantern. “Meet me mum!”

“Oh god, Jack!” Rose recoiled. “Do I even want to know?”

His eyes were peering in concern over her head by this point however, and he distantly said, “Probably not. Hold that thought and come with me.” He then swept around her and quickly pushed his way past Barbossa, ducking inside the Captain’s quarters before Barbossa could do so.

“Sorry mate, my cabin! Called it!” Jack cried triumphantly before slamming the door once Rose scurried inside behind him. Together, they laughed until their sides were sore. Jack found a secret stash of rum he had hidden away in a trunk and they treated themselves to several bottles as they caught up on the past six months of their lives…and deaths. It was on her third bottle that Rose began to feel pretty woozy, and was impressed with herself that she had been able to carefully sidestep the mentioning of the Norrington debacle altogether, and Jack thought nothing of her vague brushing over of details regarding how she escaped Port Royal. He instead was far more interested in her new relationship with their father.

“So, Teague, then, eh? You two are thick as thieves, it would seem.”

“I wouldn’t say _that,”_ she protested. “We’ve come back into contact, that’s all. And he seems…apologetic for the past. That’s all I can really ask for.”

Jack nodded. “I’ll admit, things do seem different with him. We had a good long chat after the Court adjourned. Saw right through me, of course. Knew all about my plans.”

Rose leaned forward in interest. “And what plans are those?”

Jack’s eyes glinted in excitement. “Eternity,” he said with a grin. “Didn’t much care for death. Don’t really want to go through that nasty business again, really. So, methinks I’ll—“

“Stab the heart,” Rose finished, putting it all together.

“Bad decision?” Jack asked.

“Surprisingly? I agree with you.”

Jack looked shocked. “Is that so?”

“Aye,” Rose said. “I overheard Calypso telling Barbossa before you died that she had seen the successor to Davy Jones. It very well could be you.”

“And, _you’d_ be alright with that?” Jack asked.

“If it’s what you want, then yes!” Rose agreed. “Plus, I wouldn’t have to worry if you were alive or not. It’s a win for both sides, really.” She took a large sip of her rum, then interrogated him for further details. “So how will you do it?” she asked.

“Still working that one out,” Jack replied.

Rose rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair in exasperation. “Bloody improvisation again, why did I expect any less?”

“Never failed me once!” Rose raised a skeptical eyebrow at this, to which Jack corrected, “Well…maybe it’s failed me once or twice. But still—the odds are overwhelmingly in my favor on this one!”

“Well,” Rose said through a yawn. “No matter what happens, I’ll be fighting alongside you lot. Know that.”

The last thing Rose remembers from that night was Jack replying, “I’m sure you will, love.” She then fell into a deep, rum-induced sleep that was deep and dreamless. So deep was her slumber that she never felt herself being carried out hours later, hoisted over the _Pearl_ ’s railing, then set down in a strange bed. It was in this strange bed that Rose awoke in the morning. Her head was pounding from the drink the night before, so it took her awhile to adjust, but when she did, she saw that she was in a Captain’s quarters that was smaller but more finely decorated than Jack’s. Something about this place seemed vaguely familiar, though Rose didn’t quite know why at first.

It wasn’t until she appeared on deck in the white light of that overcast morning that Rose realized that she had been moved aboard the _Misty Lady_ in the middle of the night in a secret transference between Teague and Jack. Furious, she pushed her way past the strange men of her father’s crew and marched right up to where Teague stood on the _Misty Lady_ ’s forecastle deck. His gaze remained fixated out to sea, and it was only then that it even occurred to Rose to look around her and notice the sheer silence of the ocean; everything and everyone was still in quiet anticipation. There were hundreds of pirate ships lined up alongside the _Misty Lady,_ and the _Pearl_ floated only a few leagues away. Northward, Rose’s face fell when she saw the _Flying Dutchman,_ poised in all of its green, grim glory, facing off directly towards the line of pirates. Behind it was even more of a ghastly sight; Rose saw the pristine appearance of the _Endeavour,_ and even further off were waiting what appeared to be nearly a thousand Company vessels. The pirates were severely outnumbered.

“What’s going on?” Rose said quietly to her father.

Teague’s eyes didn’t leave the _Pearl,_ however. “Jack called a parlay,” he explained. They met on a spit of land a ways off, that’s all I know. When they came back, Jack had been exchanged with that bloke over there,” he said, pointing towards a man in a red shirt that was standing aboard the _Pearl_ next to Elizabeth.

Rose instantly recognized him. _Will!_ While this meant that Jack was now in the extremely dangerous hands of Jones and Beckett, Rose actually found herself grateful that this had happened—it put Jack in a much better position to dispatch Jones quickly and effectively.

“So what happens now?” Rose asked.

“We don’t know,” he replied. “If I had to guess, I would presume that Barbossa reached an agreement that might have saved us for the moment. As you can see, we’re severely outnumbered. It would appear as though the _Pearl_ is singlehandedly preparing to launch into battle.”

Rose began to piece it together. “The _Pearl_ and the _Dutchman_ will be facing off against other. Each side’s champion vessel. To the victor go the spoils.”

“Aye,” agreed Teague, though his eyes were now narrowed. “Although, it would appear that something’s just come up.” Immediately, he handed over his telescope to Rose. She quickly extended it, and gasped in horror when she saw Calypso tied up, with Barbossa standing near her with a bowl and a fuse as though about to start a ritual. He was attempting to free her.

Rose looked at her father in shock. “But it was Elizabeth’s orders to fight first, free her later! Calypso could turn the tides against us!”

Teague shook his head. “From what you say, I’m not sure that Barbossa has much of a choice. He has to free her, or he’s damned.”

It was true. Elizabeth looked livid at having had her orders be directly defied, and Barbossa was waving his arms about in an exaggerated fashion, attempting desperately to keep his promise to free the goddess. Calypso just stood there. Nothing happened. Rose’s heart beat in her chest as confusion erupted on deck.

“It’s not working” Rose whispered. “Why isn’t it working?” Just then, through the telescope, she watched as Ragetti of all people whispered something into Calypso’s ear, which caused her to convulse and set the bowl on fire with her mind.

At that moment, Rose started to feel odd. She lowered the telescope from her eye, and placed a hand on her neck. She had developed an instant fever.

“Everything alright?” Teague asked in concern. When she didn’t reply, he asked, “Rose?”

That’s when she collapsed.

* * *

Rose came to only a few minutes later, and when she did, she was helped to her feet once more by Teague and a few of his men. They had fetched her a barrel to sit upon and a canteen of water. 

“Are you alright?” Teague asked her, eyes wrought with worry.

“I…I’m not sure,” Rose said. Her head was throbbing, and not in a way that felt like a result of the previous night’s alcohol. Every nerve in her body felt like it was dancing independent from herself. “What happened?”

“So much,” he reported. “You began to violently convulse. Then as soon as you went down, Calypso grew to massive proportions. She then disintegrated into over a thousand crabs.”

“What?” Rose exclaimed, leaping to her feet. She rushed back to the railing, and felt a pang of horror when she realized that Tia Dalma, _Calypso,_ was fully gone. The only remnants of her presence where a few last remaining crabs the _Pearl_ ’s crew were presently throwing overboard.

Teague was at her side once more, and Rose asked him, “So, she’s just…gone then? Returned to the Locker?”

“Well, she’s certainly not _helping_ us,” he grumbled.

Rose looked at him, “So what happens now?”

Their attentions at that moment, however, were drawn back to the _Black Pearl,_ as they heard a triumphant voice ring out over the vast silence of the surrounding vessels. Rose’s eyes were drawn to Elizabeth, who clung to the rigging, positioning herself above the men as she cried out, “They will see free men and freedom! And what the enemy will see is the flash of our cannons. They will hear the ring of our swords, and they will know what we can do. By the sweat of our brows and the strength of our backs, and the courage of our hearts. Gentlemen. Hoist the colors!”

This sparked a chain reaction of “Hoist the colors!” throughout the _Pearl_ ’s crew, then Teague’s crew, then the immediate surrounding ships, then their entire fleet. Soon, everyone was hollering and cheering, screaming out fearsome battle cries. Rose had never seen anything like it, but was still extremely disoriented from her seizure only a few minutes prior. The commotion caused her to have to sit once more, though she watched as the clouds billowed above them, the _Pearl_ surged forward towards the enemy vessels, and the _Dutchman_ followed suit. Before anyone quite knew what was happening, the area ocean where the two ships were about to meet began to churn violently, leading to a prolific maelstrom.

“There it is,” Rose said with a grin.

“What?” Teague asked her.

“Calypso chose the third path…she’s picked neither side.”


	17. The Final Stand

Rose’s eye might as well have been fused to that telescope throughout the battle. Teague stood by her side, waiting for word from her, but there was little to report. The maelstrom caused by Calypso grew ever stronger and the fighting went on for an exorbitant amount of time. The ships in Shipwreck’s harbor were filled with thousands of spectators, all of whom were so silent, one could hear a pin drop.

For what seemed like hours it was like this. The ships turned and turned in the maelstrom, blasting away at one another with no clear victor in sight. Finally, Rose noticed something that finally shifted all activity.

”Good lord,” she exclaimed.

“What is it?” asked Teague.

“The storm. It’s clearing. And the _Pearl_ is starting to leave her.”

The fight hadn’t been won, the _Pearl_ was merely escaping the increasingly unstable maelstrom. The _Dutchman_ was going down with the tide, presumably back to the Locker. All gunfire had ceased, and the the _Pearl_ soon crested the top of these spinning waves and sailed back into stable waters. As soon as she cleared, Rose drew the telescope across the faces of the crewman.

_Marty, Ragetti, Cotton, Gibbs and Barbossa at the wheel…there’s Pintel… Oh no._

Jack, Will and Elizabeth were missing.

Just then, some commotion from nearby ships broke Rose’s fixated gaze upon what was left of the _Black Pearl._ She followed the eyes and pointing hands of the pirates who looked up in the sky until she found what they had noticed. She raised the glass once again to her eye and breathed a massive sigh of relief when she saw that Jack had parachuted off the _Dutchman_ and was about to land in the now calm seas. Jack the monkey clung for dear life to the lowest hanging ropes of the parachute, while someone else held on to Jack… _Elizabeth!_ She had her face buried in Jack’s chest as they soared through the sky, which made Rose feel unsettled.

 _That means…_ Rose meticulously counted the crewmen aboard the _Pearl_ once again as they sailed past to retrieve Jack and Elizabeth from the water.

Will was gone.

“Oh god…” Rose whispered.

“What?”

She focused the glass upon a now soaking wet Elizabeth looking despondent. “Will Turner. My friend. He didn’t make it.”

Teague laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. She lowered the glass and stared at the _Black Pearl._ In just a day, she had gained back her brother, but lost two people who were very important to her. She knew it could have been so much worse, but still, what was lost hurt her deeply.

The war was nowhere _near_ over, however. True, the _Flying Dutchman_ was gone, but no one truly knew why. With its descent into the Locker, that must have meant that all Company officers aboard were dead, for they never would have survived that trip to the other world. Rose also wondered about Norrington’s fate— Was _he_ one of those unlucky souls? Had he made it off the ship before the maelstrom, or had he met his demise long before that time? Rose would have to suffer through the unknown, but whatever fate Norrington received, she sincerely hoped it accommodated her justice.

That’s when the next stage in the war began. With the _Dutchman_ out of the picture, it was time for the pirates’ victor to face off against the Company’s _next_ champion, the _Endeavour._ The _Endeavour_ had a three decks of cannons. With the _Pearl_ already battle worn, things were looking grim for the pirates. If the _Endeavour_ bested her, the rest of the Company fleet would sail right towards the pirates as they tried to turn and flee, and all out war would be engaged.

“There’s no way the _Pearl_ will make it out of this,” Rose murmured to her father. “Can’t we help them?”

Teague shook his head. “If one of ours comes to the _Pearl’s_ aid, then all of them will come to the _Endeavour’s._ These are our victors—we must let this battle determine a winning side.”

Rose’s heart raced. “But they don’t stand a chance! Why can’t—“ A large splash stopped her mid-sentence, and all of the pirates lying in wait watched in awe as the _Flying Dutchman_ burst out of the water a few ship lengths away from the nearing _Pearl_ and _Endeavour._ Noises of unrest began amongst the hundreds of pirate ships, and the _Misty Lady_ was no exception. The _Dutchman_ was back and was undoubtedly now going to side with the _Endeavour_. The three ships sailed right towards each other, almost as though they were going to collide head on at the same time.

Rose only stared at Teague in panic. “Father!” she cried. “What…” She couldn’t even bring herself to finish her thought; _What do we do?_ Teague shared her uncertainty, though he cried out, “Make sail! We turn back!” Soon Rose heard similar cries pouring out in different languages across the surrounding vessels. She stayed stationary, however, unable to move in sheer disbelief; She was going to watch her brother die all over again.

Just then, something strange caught her eye, and she raised the telescope once more to get a better view of it. Pieces of the _Dutchman_ and bits of slime were falling off into the sea, and the ship now looked far less dilapidated and green. She was then alarmed to find that all of the crewmen…were men! Not seas creatures! That’s when the _Dutchman_ and the _Pearl,_ almost in unison, changed directions and turned right towards the _Endeavour_ , taking either side to blast her apart.

“WAIT!” Rose cried out in triumph. “The _Dutchman_ is on our side!”

Teague rejoined her by her side and took the telescope from her to corroborate this. Finally, he handed it back to her and cried out, “Aye! Hold, men!”

So Davy Jones had had a change of heart after all…Rose traced the scope across the deck and nearly fell over when she saw it; Jones _did_ indeed have a change of heart, for his heart had been replaced by none other than Will Turner. There he stood at the wheel, a large scar across his chest. Rose was absolutely elated that Will wasn’t dead, but then her joy ceased when she realized that…he _was._ With Jones gone, the cursed appearance of the _Dutchman_ was gone, though Calypso’s sentence still remained. The _Dutchman_ must always have a captain, and with Will as the new captain, that meant he could only go ashore once every ten years. The gravity of this situation was not lost on Rose as she watched Barbossa, Jack, Elizabeth, and Will all collaborate to take down the _Endeavour._

They struck quickly and mercilessly, and the pirates cheered when Beckett’s ship finally caved with a grand explosion and sank in a smoldering heap into the ocean waves.

“They’re turning away!” Rose could hear Marty’s voice cry from the _Pearl_ ’s decks. Rose and Teague looked up to find that yes, the Company fleet was indeed retreating, their figurehead having gone down with his ship. All of the pirate ships erupted into cacophonous cheering and celebration. The war had been won, and the pirates were once again free from Company rule and the wrath of Davy Jones.

The _Pearl_ and the _Dutchman_ sailed alongside one another for a time, moving slowly with the gentle breeze as the merriment continued. Rose kept her eyes fixated upon Jack, looking proudly over his victory.

“You wish to go to him, don’t you?” Teague said quietly from behind her.

She turned to him and smiled, “Yes of course. The _Black Pearl_ is his now. For good. I can return to sail with him as was planned.”

Teague grinned. “I figured as much.” They then paused, and a silent moment was shared between father and daughter. 

“Where will _you_ go?” Rose finally asked.

He shrugged. “I’ll be around. I’ll be wherever the wind takes me. You can often find me here, though.”

Rose narrowed her eyes. “To oversee the Code? Even though the Brethren’s purpose is gone now?”

“It’s…home. It’s a place to weigh anchor and regroup. I’ll be back here.” He looked sincerely at her. “I can’t imagine you’d need me, but if you do…you know where to find me.”

Rose was moved at his words. Though simple, they were heartfelt, and she knew that this meant that a relationship with his daughter _was_ important to Teague. “Of course,” Rose said with a smile. “Of course I will see you again.”

He nodded again, then said, “I’ll get a man to row you to him, then.”

* * *

Once she had climbed aboard the _Pearl,_ Rose was instantly thrust into the still celebratory but exhausted crew. She had her hand shaken by strange men she had never seen before, got a warm embrace from Gibbs, and even got a slight tip of the hat from a stoic looking Barbossa. She then began to look around for Jack, but was distracted by the _Dutchman,_ still moving in sync with the vessel. 

She crossed the deck and leaned on the railing to see if she could hail anyone; She wanted to speak to Will. When she glanced across the unfamiliar faces onboard, however, she came across a man at the wheel Rose never thought she’d see again.

“Bootstrap!” she cried, rushing up to the forecastle deck to speak with him.

“Aye?” he called back, confused. She had changed so much, though he looked exactly the same as the day she had left him. There was no way he would have recognized her.

“It’s me, Rose Hexfury! Jack’s sister!” she called out.

Bootstrap thought about this for a moment, then his eyes lit up. “Rose! My god!” he said in recognition. “How do you fare, child?”

“Better than you have, I’m afraid!” she called back. “But what of the crew now? Will—“

“Jones killed him. Right before he died,” he explained. “Jack had Will stab the heart.”

Rose was shocked at Jack’s sacrifice. He didn’t have to save Will’s life by allowing him the immortality Jack so desperately craved, but he did.

“I’m sorry…in a sense,” she shouted back. “But I’m thrilled for you! Will and I…we’ve been friends for awhile now. He’ll make a fine captain!”

“Aye!” called Bootstrap. “It’s…a bittersweet time. But you’re doing fine, then?

“I’m doing fine, Bootstrap!” she called. “Is Will there? I would like to see him.”

Bootstrap shook his head sadly. “He went ashore for his one day. By sunset, we’ll be off. I’m sorry.”

That was crushing. She loved the sea, but she couldn’t imagine sailing it for ten years at a time. “No, I understand,” she said. “Give him my love, will you?”

He nodded. “Of course, Rose. Take care!”

“And you, Bootsrap!” She turned away, pensive. This was a bittersweet ending indeed. Calypso was freed, but Tia Dalma was no more. The Company was defeated and Jones was dead, yet Will took his place. Rose righted her wrong, reunited with Teague and could now return to the _Pearl…_ but something didn’t feel right.

“Must we shout out our relations to undead sailors in broad daylight?” Jack’s voice cut through her thoughts. “What did I tell you about that, love?”

Rose spun around and immediately embraced her brother, thankful for his safety. After a moment, however, she broke the embrace and swiftly punched him in the arm.

“Ow!” Jack cried.

“What did _I_ tell you about keeping me aboard? You had no right to hand me off to Teague while you lot went off to fight! I wanted to be here!”

“You’re here now, aren’t you?” he protested, motioning towards the rest of his ship. “As are all of us. We did it. We’ve bested death itself.”

“Have we _all_?” she asked pointedly, referring to Will. Her meaning was not lost on him, and he fell silent. “How’s Elizabeth taking it?” she asked.

“We sent her ashore. She’s with Will now.” Jack flicked his wrist in the general direction of where Barbossa stood and said with a sneer. “Good ol’ Barbie married them, it would appear.”

“And what of you then, eh? I never thought you’d be so warmhearted as to act so selflessly for another.”

“Pssh!” Jack said, deflecting her praise. “Will was…very persuasive with his…deadness. Thought I’d give him a go. _Dutchman’s_ much too slimy anyways. Not really my style, come to think of it.”

She gave a crooked grin, unconvinced. “Uh huh. So what’s next for the immortality plan?”

Jack craned his neck to make sure Barbossa was out of earshot, then leaned close to her to whisper, “Those charts from Sao Feng serve several purposes.” He grinned. “I’ll get my eternity somehow.”

Rose rolled her eyes at her incorrigible, insatiable brother. Despite his machismo behavior, she was massively impressed by his decision to help keep Will and Elizabeth’s relationship alive, limited though it now was. She looked to the island where the two currently were spending their very short time together. “So, what, Elizabeth now has to stay there and care for Will’s heart?” she asked aloud.

“Aye.”

Rose blinked. “Alone?”

Jack only looked at her, which gave her her answer.

Her gaze drifted across the water towards Shipwreck. She found herself feeling so conflicted about her future. The _Pearl_ would restock and recover, then most likely sail away to whatever far off port struck Jack’s fancy. The _Pearl_ was bound to no one else but him now—she would be free to visit all those far off places she dreamed of. But there was all of a sudden an overwhelming desire for something…else.

Jack leaned against one of her shoulders, following her gaze towards the island. “S’pose it was wishful thinking to imagine you’d be the same person after all this time.” He looked down at her. “You don’t want to come anymore, do you?”

She turned to him. “No, I do! I would love nothing more, but I…Jack, for the first time ever, I have felt _useful_ here. When you were dead, my life lost all meaning. The only thing that kept me going was coming here and helping others. And if there’s one thing that I have learned, it’s that you _don’t_ need me, Jack. And, actually…I don’t need you either.”

Jack scowled. “Thanks.”

“No, do you understand what I mean? Over these past few months, I survived entirely on my own. I defied all odds and used my own abilities to make a difference.” She looked back to Shipwreck and smiled. “I think…I think I’m needed here. I think I have purpose here.”

She turned back to her brother, who wore a sad smile, but clearly understood. “Should I ready a boat, then?”

“Aye,” she whispered sadly.

In the moments that followed, she said her goodbyes to the crew, then climbed into the boat next to the crewman who was to row her to shore. Jack stood right on the other side, still smiling at her. “You’ll let me come back and visit of course, won’t you?”

“I’d expect nothing less!” She leaned over the railing and embraced him once more. “No dying this time, you understand me?” she joked.

He pulled out of the embrace. “I’ve made it out before, haven’t I? After all, who am I?”

 _Captain Jack Sparrow_ was what he wanted to hear. She knew that, but still she replied, “My half-brother.”

Before she knew it, the boat was lowered into the ocean and she was making her way back towards Shipwreck Island, though she watched her sibling as long as she could. She watched as he reached into his pocket absentmindedly and felt the object Rose had slipped into his pocket during their embrace—both Indonesian pendants.

“ROSE!” he called out, assuming that it was a mistake.

“Keep them!” she cried back. “A good luck token!”

He smiled again, and watched her until they could no longer see each other’s expressions. At this time, Rose shifted her body away from the _Pearl._ That was the past. Shipwreck Island was her future.


	18. The Horizon

Rose walked barefoot through the sand to where Elizabeth sat, staring out at the horizon where the sun had set, taking Will and the _Dutchman_ with it. The sky was still dark blue, as the sun had just risen behind the island’s large face, and its beams hadn’t yet traversed the wide expanse of the sky.

She approached her, noticing that the chest containing Will’s beating heart sat by her side. Suddenly, Rose felt very aware of her uncertainty in how to address her; Elizabeth? Miss Swann? Mrs. Turner? Your majesty?

“Captain Turner?” she finally settled upon.

Elizabeth’s gaze remained fixed upon the horizon as she said softly, “Not anymore. I let Tai Huang captain the _Empress._ He was deserving of it in the first place. And I can’t captain a ship anymore.” She broke her gaze with the skyline and placed a hand over the chest. “I’ve got other duties now.”

Rose couldn’t gauge Elizabeth’s emotions while standing over her shoulder, so she took a seat on the sand next to her on the side opposite where the chest sat. Gently, she asked, “What would you like to do now?”

“I’m not entirely sure.”

“You can stay here for the night if you would prefer, or we could go back to Shipwreck Cove. Because of my father’s status, I have plenty of access to its resources, and because of who _you_ are, it’s practically your palace.”

Still not making eye contact with Rose, Elizabeth postulated aloud, “Is one still a Pirate King once the founding principle of the Brethren Court has disappeared into the sea and the war has been won?”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you were still elected.”

Elizabeth scoffed, “By one vote. _And_ it was your brother’s _and_ it was ultimately for his own reasons.”

“Fine, then,” Rose continued to counter her with optimism. “It doesn’t change the fact that thousands of pirates followed you willingly into a battle that you led when all hope was gone. I was there, I saw it myself!”

This made Elizabeth finally look over at Rose, and she gave a slight smile at the memory of what that power felt like. Rose continued, “The war has _not_ been won. Our kind will continue to be hunted by those in power. We need a leader with the diplomacy the opponent has, and it’s _you,_ Elizabeth.”

Now Elizabeth’s smirk had fully spread across her face. Quietly, she said, “ _Our_ kind. So I am fully a pirate then, am I?”

“Listen,” Rose mused, “I never imagined I would say this in such good spirits, but killing my brother is no easy feat for _anyone,_ let alone a proper lady of the Crown. You’re a pirate through and through.”

Elizabeth looked back down at the sand in front of her, lost once again in thought. Rose waited a few moments for a response, but when none came, she gently prodded her with, “So what’s it going to be? What is it you want to do now?”

“I think…” she began, her voice trailing off. She took a deep breath and began again, “I think I need a drink.”

The two women exploded in much-needed laughter that perhaps was fueled even more by the tumultuous and emotionally horrendous past few days, weeks, and months they had both experienced. They had both loved and lost, were pushed to their limits, were deceived and did some deceiving of their own, and risked everything for the good of their shared, “kind.” Rose never thought she’d find this fellowship in a woman she began instantly hating, but she was so happy that she had.

“Alright,” she said, placing her hands on her knees and sitting up straighter. “What’s say we find a place to bury that chest for the night until we can find a safer, more permanent place, and then we make our way to the tavern at the town?”

Elizabeth furrowed her brow, though still she grinned. “Although that sounds delightful, surely you have somewhere else to be. Why aren’t you with Jack?”

Rose felt nostalgia well up inside of her at this question. Indeed, if she was given another chance to sail the seas now free from terror with her half-brother, as was the plan so many years ago, why wasn’t she currently with him as he sailed for celebration in Tortuga? “Because I have a very pressing matter to attend to here,” she finally answered.

“Oh?”

“Aye.”

“And how long do you expect you’ll stay?”

“As long as you need me to.”

Elizabeth’s face fell at this. “Oh no, please. I don’t wish for anyone’s lives to change just for my sake just because… _this_ happened. The only people this should ever affect are Will and myself.”

Rose interrupted her protests. “If you don’t want me here, by all means, I will make myself scarce. But I could not stand there, sailing away on the _Black Pearl_ or the _Misty Lady_ , knowing that the bride of my friend would be entirely alone on a foreign island.”

At the word “alone,” Rose could see Elizabeth get visibly emotional, though still she managed to protest Rose’s decision. “But you still have a family, Rose. Surely—“

“My father and brother both have ships. They can come to see me any time they wish.”

Elizabeth’s breathing had increased in pace. “I…I truly don’t know what to say.”

“Say if you want my help, because if not, I don’t want to intrude.”

“No,” Elizabeth answered quickly, so quickly in fact that Rose barely had finished her thought before she replied. “I would very much appreciate your help and your company. I just…I can’t believe you’re being so kind to me.”

Rose smiled a bittersweet smile as she found herself reciting words she had spoken only a few weeks previous to someone else she had been willing to alter her life for: “I think we can find joy by being heroes in this world of villainy.” She took a deep breath, swallowing her residual embarrassment and still fresh wounds from her time with James. She continued, “What you have to face is unfathomable, and I don’t want to see you face it alone.”

This caused Elizabeth to burst into tears, mostly of joy, but also of previously bottled-up stress, rage, and sorrow. “I don’t want to face it alone,” she cried.

Rose was quick to pull her into an embrace, and there they sat together for a time. When it finally broke, Elizabeth said with a grateful grin through her tears, “I don’t know how to possibly thank you!”

Rose took her hands and looked earnestly at her. “Promise me that you shall remain the Pirate King we still need. If Will can manage the dead, you can manage the living.”

“So I shall,” Elizabeth vowed. “But what of you, Rose? What future is there for you here?

Rose hadn’t considered her own future beyond that of helping Elizabeth mourn and rebuild her life. But a shimmer of light off of Calypso’s locket that now hung around her neck gave her an idea…and that idea sparked a wildfire that raged inside every part of her being.

“The world’s best healer has been freed, thereby leaving that legacy to her apprentice,” Rose finally replied. “I will manage the ailing.”


	19. Epilogue

Rose had her eyes closed, yet she could still see the light from the candles that surrounded her. She felt their warmth, their glow. But suddenly, her eyes flew open when she heard a sharp movement of air extinguish a candle.

Sure enough, her eyes followed the direction of the sound, and she found the candle’s black smoke drifting up from its wick.

 _Pfoosh,_ the sound came again, from behind her. Rose spun around, but only saw the extinguished candle’s smoke again.

_Pfoosh. Pfoosh._

Rose was frantic now, spinning around and around, not being able to catch whatever or whoever was blowing out the candles. The only thing she knew was that with every flame gone, Rose’s eyesight was fading dimmer and dimmer.

_Pfoosh, pfoosh, pfoosh._

“Show yourself!” she cried out, her voice echoing in the immense space before her.

_Pfoosh. Pfoosh._

“Stop it!”

_Pfoosh._

Finally, there was just one candle left. With nowhere to hide, Rose put her full attention on it. Whoever was blowing them out would _have_ to show themselves now. She heard footsteps approach, and the flicker of the flame began to illuminate its shape. First boots, then trousers. Then a bodice and laced shirt. Then raven hair. Then her face. A face who had matured significantly since Rose had last seen it, but one that struck fear into her heart.

“Angelica, no,” Rose pleaded.

Angelica only grew closer and closer still to the candle. She gave a large inhale.

“Please, Angelica. Please…”

Then, _pfoosh._

Darkness, cold, silence. The silence was large and immense, and suddenly began to ring in her ears. This ringing increased and increased until it began to deafen her until—

“Rose?” Elizabeth asked, stirring her from the nightmare. Rose readjusted back into reality, noting the light that illuminated her makeshift bed in her father’s old quarters in the Cove fortress.

“Aye?” she answered breathlessly.

“You’re coming with us, correct?” Elizabeth asked, adjusting the tricorn hat atop her head.“We’ve got the ship ready to make sail for our sacking of Port Royal. I thought you said yesterday that you had business to attend to there.”

Rose sat up and began to put on her boots. “Yes, sorry. I overslept.”

Elizabeth looked concerned as they together descended the fortress. “Everything alright?” she asked on their trek.

Rose grimaced. “Another nightmare.”

“Ben again?” she asked quietly.

Rose shook her head. “Shockingly, it was Angelica.”

“Angelica? Have you dreamt of her before?”

“No,” Rose replied. “And that’s what concerns me. …I have a feeling I haven’t seen the last of her.”


End file.
